fandomhigh | Women and Gender Studies, 5/16/07

Madeline twitched her lips and adjusted her glasses as she looked over the gathered students, counting them silently in her head. "All right, all right, is everyone here? Are we all met, as some guy once said? Good, good, welcome to Women and Gender Studies! Now, let's get started. . . ."

"We should introduce ourselves, Mad," Sylvia cut in, putting a gentle hand on her friend's arm. "I don't mean to interrupt,"

"No, no, you're right, I forgot!"

"It's okay."

"It's not okay, you're right, I'm wrong, I'm SORRY,"

"Don't worry about it, darling."

"I," said Madeline, pressing a hand to her ample chest, "am Madeline Samuels, and this is my best friend in the entire universe, forty three and a half wonderful years--"

"I'm Sylvia Dunleavy," Sylvia cut in again. "Nice to meetcha. Call me Syvvie. Everyone does."

"Everyone does," Madeline agreed. "And we are going to be your Women and Gender Studies teachers for this summer session. Now, I know, I know what you're thinking: 'what the hell do two old ladies like them know about Women and Gender Studies?'"

"A helluva a lot, that's what,"

"That's right, that's right. We've got the prerequisites right here!" Madeline gestured loosely at herself and Sylvia and continued on. "And we've taken lots of courses in the subject at the junior college, isn't that right, Syvvie?"

"That's right, Maddie."

"That's right. You should listen to us. You might learn something."

"That's why you're here, after all."

"That's right! So, boys and girls--"

"Ah, ah," Sylvia interrupted again. "MEN and WOMEN."

"Right, right! I forgot, I'm sorry!"

"Don't be sorry."

"No, no, you're right, I'm wrong,"

"You're not wrong, darling."

"I'm sorry, MEN and WOMEN. Let's get a couple ground rules in before we get started, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Okay! The first rule is . . ." Madeline paused for effect. "Respect each other. Respect. That means no making fun of anything anyone says in this classroom. If you do, Sylvia with get you with her cane."

"I don't need it, but I have it, and I'll use it!" Sylvia shook her fist in a mock threatening gesture.

"We're kidding, we're kidding, of course we're kidding. Lighten up! That's rule number two. If you take things too seriously, you'll only give yourself ulcers. My second husband didn't lighten up, and what happened to him? He died. That's right, right in the middle of dinner one night, just keeled right over. Stress, the doctor said. So laugh a little."

"Smile, sometimes!"

"Smile, and the whole world sleeps with you. Now, rule number three, and this is important, so listen closely. You can do anything you want to do . . ." Sylvia joined in, and they said the next part in chorus: "As long as you're willing to get up and do it!"

"That's right," Madeline continued. "And that's not just for this class, either. Live your life that way, and you'll be a happy person."

"As long as you're not hurting anybody."

"Right, right, as long as you're not hurting anyone, anything goes. Those are the rules. So, you know us, now, darlings, we want to get to know you. Introduce yourselves! Tell us your name, where you're from, and what gender you identify with the most. That part's important."

"That's right, you think you can tell--"

"But the next thing you know, you realize you're talkin' to a transvestitute." Madeline adjusted her glasses again. "And then, my darlings, the glares, oh, I shudder to think." She shuddered.

"When you're done with that, we'll have an exercise."

"That's right, that's right, an exercise. We want you to work together in partners,"

"Not sexual partners now," Sylvia snorted and laughed. Madeline joined in.

"We're just a class, after all, and not that class, it's being taught by someone else. Anyway, where was I?"

"Partners."

"Right, right, get into partners and I want you to make a list of gender stereotypes. You know what I'm talking about. Where ever it is you are from, I want you to think back, and list as many different stereotypes about boys and girls as you can. And then, when you've got yourself a list? I want you to ask yourself, say 'Self? Do I fit these stereotypes?' And then tell yourself why."

"Or tell your partner."

"Or ask your partner. Whatever floats your gazebo."

[OOC: OCD is up, have-at ye! I promise, they'll be moderately less babbly in classes to come.]

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Madeline and Sylvia were just about giddy after their class when they spotted Deadpool.

"My my myyyyyyyy," Madeline said. "Would you just look at that costume! Oh, Phillip would have loved you, bless his soul."

"Don't lie, Mad, he'da hated an outfit like that,"

"Oh, but he'd have approved of someone brave enough to wear it."

Deadpool looked down at his costume. "I think it's slimming."

"Oh, I'm sure it is!"

"We should introdu--"

"You're right, Syvvie! Oh, how do I keep forgetting, I didn't introduce! I am Madeline Samuels and this is--"

"I'm Syvvie." Sylvia might have been getting a bit tired of this routine. "Nice to meetcha."

"Nice to meet you both too!" Deadpool said, putting out his hand for shaking, then realizing there were two, put out the other one as well. "I'm Deadpool, your teaching buddy, though I hope that doesn't mean anything about having to help you teach because I have enough brats in my class, thank you."

"A teaching buddy!" Madeline took Deadpool's right hand and gave it a firm, energetic shake. "Oh, isn't that exciting. Have you ever heard of such a thing, Syvvie?"

"Not at all," Sylvia took Deadpool's left hand, her shake slightly less firm and energetic and more ironic. "We didn't need any help teaching the workshop, anyway."

"Not at all, not at all," Madeline agreed. "So what are you supposed to do as a 'teaching buddy' then?"

"Good question!"

Deadpool scratch his neck and thought it over. "I have no idea. Make sure you avoid gremlins, Emma Frost and don't trust Aly because she lies and don't believe a word she says about me getting married to another teacher here?"

Madeline blinked.

And when I say blinked, I mean she stood there, stock still, her eyes opening and closing rapidly for about 20 seconds.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I seeeeeee." She leaned sideways, never breaking eyecontact (she assumed) with Deadpool, continuing to smile while she very loudly whispered "Syvvie! Do you have any idea what he's talking about?"

"Not a clue," Sylvia answered cheerfully. "But he's talkin' about Ms. Frost. The not-a-transvestitute."

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,"

Emma as a tranny. Huh.

"You know, the transvestite-ism might make sense. I should send a letter to Nate's dad about that to check..."

"Well just don't tell her you're doin' it! She got mighty offended when I asked if she might be." Madeline nodded sagely. "Now, what's this about marryin' people?"

"Oh she'll never know," Deadpool said, grinning. "It's not like she can get in my mind about it to check."

"And there was no wedding. Though I would be happy to get a panini press for no reason at all."

"Wouldn't we all, darling, wouldn't we all. Why, that's why I've been married as often as I have."

"Not me, though." Sylvia shrugged. "I never cared for paninis."

"Neither do I," he admitted. "But it's fun to say. Paniiiiniiii."

"He has a point," Sylvia agreed.

"That he does, that he does. Paniiiiiiniiiii. But you don't need a whole press just to say the word, do you?"

"No you don't."

"No, you don't. Paniiiiiniiiiii."

Deadpool was gleeing over other people understanding how much fun of a word it was.

"But having the press means that I have an excuse to use the word all the time and not just sound like a crazy person." Pause. "Crazier person."

"Oh, darling, you don't sound like a crazy person to us!"

"He does to me,"

"Oh hush, you, Syvvie. People just don't understand how to take pleasure in the simple things, these days."

Wade nodded at Syvvie, in totally agreement that she needed to take more pleasure in the simple things.

"So, if you two see a woman with blue hair, you ignore whatever she has to say, got it?"

"Blue hair? And here I thought we were the oldest ladies about!" Madeline said.

"It might just be blue, you know, not old lady blue," Sylvia pointed out.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh, that's right, that's right, I forgot not to assume! Forgive me. But we'll be on the look-out!"

He nodded. "Good. I'm around so if you need help with... stuff that doesn't involve glitter, just call."

"Glitter? Why would we need glitter?"

"Because glitter is everywhere around here," Deadpool explained. "It also leads to boykissy so I'm going to stay away from it."

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. You know, darling, if that's what you prefer, that's nothing to be ashamed of. Why, my nephew, Michael and his partner Phillip were all for it, and they were very brave and told the world that they liked each other and everything went okay. You could be okay, too."

"And if it ain't what you prefer, that's okay, too," Sylvia pointed out. "We'll keep you away from the glitter."

"That's right, that's right, we will!"

"..." Deadpool stared and made good use of the ellipsis.

"Okay, I need to go buy a book that has nothing to do with gay sex now."

"That one that that Madonna chippy did a few years back is pretty good," Sylvia offered.

Madeline was looking a bit distressed at the ellipses. "Ohhh, I messed up the politico correctives again, didn't I."

"Maybe, A little. I'm not actually sure, I think I need to watch more Fox News to find out what's the latest PC word out there."

"Well, I'm sorry, either way. I don't mean to offend!"

Sylvia rolled her eyes. "It's alright, Mad, don't be sorry."

"But I am!"

Women and Gender Studies, 5/16/07

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