So, some blogospheric Gloria Steinam syncophant would like me to know that it is, like, totally okay to cry in front of the subjects of your interview. You know what? I don't get to be a reporter for the Financial Times. I get to randomly blog about politics and random girl crap on the blogosphere. And yet someone who identifies herself as "a snow bunny" and admits to ripping off my work and the work of the other women with whom I work ("intellectual property, my ass" she says) says "Cry Me A River" and re-posts this picture of me from this here personal blog. Well, you know what? That picture was taken by me more than a year ago to show off to my best friend my change from blonde to red hair. Oh, and crying in an interview is unprofessional.
She also says "Even thinking of her voice is like taking a Xanax in a marshmellow bathtub of womb water." Actually, if you listen to my actual voice, I sound like a 13 year old Valley Girl, or so I've been told. But, you know what? Great feminist point to body/voice snark me, sneak into my personal blog, link to a photo that you're not even paying to host and snark my race. Think your feminist icon would be proud?
Also, I don't cry in public. I'm open about that. I've written about it. But even if I did randomly run around D.C. crying, I wouldn't do it in an interview with one of the most important women of the 20th century and, if for some reason she caught me on a day, like today, when my grandmother is dying horribly of cancer, I wouldn't cop to it in my article on the fucking Financial Times for the purpose of making the interview half about me. So, you know, fuck you, "Fawn." Your name is as stupid as my voice AND my writing.