I’ve done shitty things in my life and not felt a modicum of guilt until much later. Now, here I am, a healthy, reasonably slender woman who only occasionally indulges in utter garbage eats, and I was virtually wallowing in shame. How did this happen? Why did I feel so overwhelmed with ickiness over a simple choice in dinner?

I am bothered by how much of this “MySpace vs. Facebook” paper reminds me of the liberal notion of “color blindness”–one of the many good intentions paving the road to Hell. Differences should be acknowledged and respected, not overlooked.

I suppose the only way to really remedy this dissonance is to consciously remind ourselves that we exist in service to the relationship, in whatever role we occupy. We must do our parts in faithfulness and loyalty, but we cannot demand the fidelity and commitment of our partners.

“This year’s freshmen were born in 1989. They don’t remember the Berlin wall coming down. They didn’t watch the Challenger explode. . . . They were five years old when Quentin Tarantino gave us Pulp Fiction. They’ve been using the internet since elementary school. . . .These are this year’s freshmen.” I’m sure that hearing this, many professors will balk and stammer, and many will think, “God, what do we have in common with these kids?”

The only ethical obligation we have to pregnant women is to treat them as intelligent, thinking human beings who are completely capable of making their own difficult decisions without other people deciding what is important for them to know or not know, what is important for them to consider.