I consider myself a feminist, which means that I support increased funding for breast-cancer research, cheer at Allison Janney's breakthrough performance on TV's The West Wing and don't mind mentioning that I periodically trounce every male of my acquaintance with the temerity to think he can beat me at the basketball game Pop-a-Shot. So what if I have not one but two scars on my right hand from baking corn bread, or if since I bought that yellow paint, I preside over the most cheerful dang kitchen in the tri-state area? I don't find it particularly contradictory to sweep my floors...
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