Hee! Of course that was a great big love x-post.

AWESOMEST x-post ever with La Tep.

Except for our second one.

Matilda does love her some princesses, but it's gratifying that her favorite is Princess Diana of Themyscira.

In less gratifying girly news, one of our new faculty members is growing... discouraged would be putting it mildly. Since arriving here as colleague, mentee, open-heart-surgical protegee and pet statistics wizard of the new division chief, she's had to deal with endless incidents where senior faculty members turn to her at the end of meetings and say, "Your enthusiasm is nice, but students aren't really supposed to come," or preop families spend an hour watching as she examines their kid and then sitting down for another hour to discuss the upcoming operation in incredible detail, and then say, "Thank you so much, you've been so helpful! When do we get to meet the surgeon?"

And just today, a parent who'd heard about another faculty member resigning called to ask whether a new surgeon had been assigned to her child's case yet, and to say, almost apologetically, "I'm really not sexist *at all,* it's just that I'm more comfortable with male doctors. Nothing against this surgeon, I've never heard anything bad about her; I just really prefer men. But I'm not sexist!"

What the actual fuck, people?

OK, could Robin defeat Yoda?

Please, Yoda would kick any Robin's ass.

What the actual fuck, people?

My dad often says that his cardiologist is really good, and then adds "And she's a female!"

I won't bother to recount what I've said to him umpteen times about how wrong-headed that is (not to mention how fucking ridiculous it is to use "female" like that), because he just doesn't respect women, and it breaks my heart. He loves *me*, and I would even say he respects me, but I'm 100% sure it's in spite of being a woman.

batarang

Okay, is it really called this or are you fucking with me?

How have you gone this long without knowing that, le n?

totally called that. have spent many hours making cardboard batarangs.

Oh, Tep. Oh, your heart and mine. I've had similar conversations with my dad, and I'm still, at two weeks shy of 45, having to remind myself that there are things that he will never, never get and things I just should never say to him, because I know exactly what his answer will be, his answer will never change, and he'll be jovial and chipper about it and will never, not ever, change the script he's been given. At this point, I should know better than to feed him certain cues. The script will never change, and trying to change it at this point is like making myself a shit sandwich on purpose and then complaining that I have to eat a shit sandwich.

But it's disheartening. It's hard to let go of the imaginary dad who always says the right thing and loves you precisely because of all the things you are, instead of in spite of some of the most important ones.