I realize that we are all guilty of something; judgment. Whether you are that quiet girl who abides by “If you don’t have something nice, don’t say it” or somebody nasty and outspoken, like me, who has a lot of bad things to say about a lot of people - we are all guilty of judging people. Why do we do it? Is it to make us feel better about ourselves when we put others down? Is it just to fill in the cracks of silence, because it’s fun? Because all that pent-up frustration and stress over social expectations has to flow somewhere? Because it’s an evolutionary adaptation? Because we are jealous? To establish our identities in comparison with the object of judgment? What kind of joy does judgment bring us - to rip people apart?
Today someone told me a very interesting story. She just talked a lot of shit about someone else, called her thirsty, bashed her reputation in front of people that didn’t know her and felt very righteous and justified. Her rationale was because that said girl had previously talked a lot of trash about her making out with some guy at a party, without knowing that she overheard. So it’s alright to trash talk people if they trash talk us, is that right? That’s how we perpetuate the cycle - she started it! But where does the cycle stop?
I’m not sure. I’m being completely hypocritical because I am a huge gossip. But it confuses me how we can assign that label of thirsty to any girl who has multiple relations with people. We all do, it’s college. And if we want to be sexually active, why deny it? What is it about being thirsty that has such a negative connotation? Which brings me back to the main problem - women discriminate against women and hold the double standard up ourselves. We perpetuate the labels, we undercut our fellow females for doing things that are natural, and then later in our hearts, we feel guilty for wanting and doing the same things we accuse them of.
She wants the (ph)D
Not with that technique: no gloves, safety glasses, fume hood; the volume in the erlenmeyer flask is not suitable for what the flask allows; and the fumes from the left vessel are dangerously close to her nasal orifice. The only D she is asking for is Disaster.
Ohhh smart people