all my adventures are epic

For time without measure, woman has opposed the pickle jar in an epic struggle of determination versus strength.  Torturous is the knowledge that inside the stubborn container is the delicious, crisp, garlicky fulfillment of cravings, and lacking the strong hands to open the jar, woman resorts to various tactics of wrapping the lid in towels, banging at it with silverware, and recruiting strong young men to open it for her.

I imagine this situation was a serious (possibly unrecognized) setback to feminism.

But today, I started rehearsing my acceptance speech for the Life Awards.  The tip of a table knife under the edge of the lid, twist, and the monstrous vacuum seal is almost anticlimactically defeated.  And the jar opens.

Boys?  I don't need you anymore.

EDIT:  I then proceeded to get a bad haircut.   It's repairable.  The stylist just.. didn't speak English, and there was a slight communication problem between "evening out the layers" and "cutting all to one length, so that it rather sticks out from the side of my head, given volume by curliness and a flat bottom by the length."  So... I look a bit like I have a mushroom cap on my head.  It's a little cute.  Just... not what I planned.