A long line of little bag-of-hell women

I am a bag-of-hell woman. It is not something I have control over. My great aunts both were very strong women that would do anything they had to do to get what they wanted. Frances ran for a seat on her town council when it was unheard of for women to hold office (at least in NC), while Verona had a technician job that was predominantly held by men. I'm also some sort of cousin with the first woman to be a chief justice in the state of NC, Susie Sharp.

My grandmother does not really have this trait, because those aunts I was referring to were my grandfather's sisters. My mother, aunt, and I , however, did inherit this slightly frightening personality trait.

I'm not abrasive or anything (most of the time). I'm polite and generally a nice person, but don't even think about getting in my way, because I will mow you down. It won't be pretty. It's one of those strong women things I share with my mother (and a whole long list of other women that look kind of like me).

You may mistakenly believe I have some sort of feminist leaning because of all those women, but it's quite the opposite. I never felt as if I couldn't do anything I damn well pleased because of those crazy ladies. I know I'm standing on the shoulders of giants and they shattered the glass ceiling before I even got a chance to look at it, but I don't think they would want me to think that I would ever have to struggle with sexism.

Isn't that the point of equal rights? That no one even sees the lines anymore? Because I defiantly don't see the lines. I don't see them between gender, race, religion anything. We're all different and whatever, but we're all capable of the same basic functions. Anyone can be smart or play a sport or fix a car. That's just the way I feel, and maybe I'm the only one.

But it was that long line of Bag-of-hell women that told me that we're all just people, and we all are just people.


Here's a little anecdote about great aunt Frances:
When she bought new clothes, she would bring them home in laundry bags and take the tags off. Then when her husband, Charlie asked her if she had just bought it when he saw her wear them, she would reply :"Charlie, you old dog! I've had these clothes forever. I can't believe you have never noticed them before!"

I'm genetically inclined to stir up trouble. I do and say anything I want, because that's the way it is in my family.