This is the third and final installment of our ongoing series, An Interview with Criss. Relish this post, because it's the very last one in the series.
Criss, glad to have you back.
Thanks for having me. It's a pleasure to be here.
Has anything of note happened to you in since our last interview?
Yes. Yesterday, the ankle strap on my shoe broke, and I had to spend the day with my left shoe flopping about my foot. It was slightly irritating, since I had to walk with this weird step-kick move to keep the shoe from flying off my foot.
What a riveting story!
No, not really. But you asked.
Tell me, how has feminism influenced your life? Have there been any unexpected repercussions?
Funny you should ask that. Without really meaning to, my Twitter friends list has acquired a strong feminist presence, and every day I have more links that I know what to do with.
See? I'm so excited about this, I've ended a sentence with a preposition.
I've seen how my vegetarianism fits in with my feminist beliefs -- if I believe that no one has the right to control my body, how can I feel justified in controling an animal's body? (While I'm not vegan, I'm working to take steps to become more vegan, because it's hypocritical of me to fight for my right to control my body while I abuse an animal's body merely for my epicurean pleasure.)
An unintended and... unusual side-effect of this, is that I don't feel righ picking up one of my cats anymore.
Princess Vespa, the youngest before we got Gus, is rather finicky when it comes to humans. If she's in the mood, she'll allow you to pet her. Sometimes she'll even come up to you, or sit near you (not next to you, just near you) on the couch or the bed. But most of the time she just wants to be left alone. If you dare pick her up, she'll howl and make all sorts of I'M NOT HAPPY noises... and thinking of my right to my body, and my right to not have my body treated in a way I do not agree with... well, now I can't pick Princess up anymore. She has a right to have us respect her body, and her desire to not be picked up.
Which makes me sad, because she is a cute little kitten.
(Ironically, when Gus -- boy kitten -- makes noises if we pick him up, I don't mind. Now, most of the time we're picking him up to stop him from attacking one of the girls, but still. The fact that he's a boy makes the situation different, I guess. Which means I'm cat-sexist... drat!)
That's very... existential...
Is there anything else you'd like to share with us, before you leave?
Not at the moment. But I'll let you know if I think of anything.
Great! Well, thank you so much for your time. Our readers really appreciate this insight into your life.
It's been my pleasure. Thank you.