Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: , article, life, money, Newsweek, politics, power, random, vacation, Vegas
Last night’s drinks: vodka and soda with two limes.
I’ve been reading a lot of Newsweek lately, which has been inundated, fortunately and otherwise, with articles on candidates from Hillary to Huckabee. So far, my favorite has been on the man that hasn’t officially decided if he wants to run yet – Mike Bloomberg. Of course, the name Bloomberg is associated with money, which almost immediately triggered my gag reflex, but the article completely changed my mind. In the article, he was confident, charming, and self-assured which, combined with many other attributes, has presumably brought him to where he is today.
Last night’s jaunt in Vegas with Jenn made me think more about the politics of successfully getting ahead in any arena where money and favors are to be had. It’s all about the charm and the attention, both of which can lead to great rewards. I used to take a relatively laissez faire attitude toward doing anything but dancing in the clubs in this town, but you find that the extra bit of effort you put into the “details” activities, like going to the hotel bar or doing a lap around the casino, has potential for payoff.
We tested this a little last night, but I’m going to blame the venue and the timing rather than us, since we were looking pretty cute. But I’m looking forward to playing up the surprise angle, like Bloomberg, and unleashing some of the secret skills that might win over those who otherwise may not have given a second look.
Hi ho silver and MAC!
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: , articles, culture, family, life, love, news, Newsweek, pregnancy, single, thoughts, women, work
This Morning’s Drink: Coffee.
There is currently an article in Newsweek, titled “Knocking Yourself Up,” which discusses post-30’s career women empregnating themselves with donated sperm. Apparently, there is an emerging American trend within this demographic of exceling in one’s career, tripping over a string of date bombs, and eventually deciding that the other half of procreation is too easy for all that noise.
Ever since I started thinking about being a mother, I’ve always pictured myself as a single mother with a little girl. I’m not one of those women who is in a hurry to have kids – in fact, I’ve always been terrified of the prospect. I’ve gotten more used to the idea as I get older, but there was a time when I’d hear of officemates getting pregnant, and my first instinct would be to console them. For some reason, kids, in my world, have taken on a sort of “Dead-End” sign at the end of a paved road. Past that sign is a bunch of dirt, weeds, gravel, and an end to life as I know it. I’ve noticed, though, that the older I get, the more I imagine that space with flowers and grass. Maybe it won’t be the end.
Notice that statement is in the future tense. Like, distant future tense.
Many people have told me that I will find someone and get married, but I’m having a hard time believing that to be true. I am starting to understand why people a half a century ago were getting married and starting families so young – because, when you get married young, you haven’t had a chance to harden yourself in your singledom. I love living alone. Love it. Sharing a space with someone who is similarly stubborn will likely be a jarring experience – sharing a life with that same someone… yikes for both of us.
I know a lot of married people, but I know a LOT of single people, too… and I’m not just talking mid-20s singles. I live in an apartment complex that sort of resembles a cross-section of the singles in the world. There are a few of me, a couple young straight men, one young gay male, and the rest are older, gay & straight, men & women. With cats. Lots of cats in this complex.
We are all relatively normal, social, even attractive people (with the exception of the psycho guy down the hall), but the point is that there are mostly older singles. Maybe a sample of 30 isn’t that statistically significant, but it’s something to think about.
In a sort of side note, I just recently read a blog (sorry.. I can’t find it now) that criticised people who used fertilization methods as being “genetically vain,” because, I guess, they were effacing their destiny of not being able to procreate with others by doing so unnaturally (and they should just be adopting instead). Though the logic sucks, I can sort of see her point. If natural selection hasn’t selected me, am I not throwing a wrench in the gears by doing it myself? If I were to have a child, though, I would want to experience all of it. The growth inside me, sonograms, maternity clothes, cravings, the big belly, childbirth, the whole enchilada. If that makes me vain, well… I’ve always liked Carly Simon.
So if that Mr. Right doesn’t propose, I have options. At least I know that I won’t be alone.
Happy Hour 