My husband seriously rocks. Ruth’s Chris? Excellent. They cook their steaks in butter. Calorie count? Food for a week for a family of New Millennial beggars in Lagos, Nigeria (if you don’t understand that joke, it’s because you don’t realize blogs are daily-ish, so read back a few days). Seriously. Most important, though? MY PRESENT! AN ENGAGEMENT RING! I was shocked to silence (I’m never quite). Steve and I eloped to Las Vegas, see. I never got an engagement ring, see. I have a great wedding ring story, but that’s for another time. So, OMG, IT’S FUCKING HUGE. The engagement ring, that is, see.
On another note, turning 40 made me reflect once again on grrl stuff on the web, which I already wrote about in some journal entry here somewhere. Whatever. Anyway, I went scouting for some chickclick affiliate sites and I found some of the graphics, at least. They were so hip. I found some on Courtney Macavinta’s site. She was the managing editor. And I found some e-cards on another one of their former web designer’s sites. One of their former sister sites, hellfire.com, has an actual list links to chickclick sister sites, so I had surfing fun. I hadn’t surfed chickclick for probably a year or so before it shut down. Needless to say, they degenerated, succumbing to commercial demands and losing their political edge, like so many other women-focused places on the net. I found a commentary that said something similar and an old article from salon that mentions chickclick and talks about the feminist revolution on the net, or lack thereof. I think grrl stuff became anime stuff. It’s another example of gen X being squeezed from boomers on one side of the demographic hump, and their kids on the other. Britney Spears is no longer popular, but that’s just because the 8 year old Willow’s of the world are now 13 and buying Pink and Avril Lavigne instead. And third wave feminism, which is not my mother’s feminism, is now commodified (like all feminism is, I suppose) into Lara Croft. Ok. This is old news. I’ve ranted about this. Other people have ranted about this. I need to get over it. But I’m entitled. I’m 40, dammit.
