NONSENSE

I don't have anything to write about. I haven't been watching the news. I listen to the radio in the mornings, but it all turns into mental jelly by the second meeting of the day. I haven't read anything that I would recommend. I've been paying very little attention to world events. I've been paying even less attention to local events. I literally turned in my ballot at the last possible second out of sheer laziness. I haven't seen a good show in a while (though hoping to go to Beirut this weekend...the band, not the city), the last movie I saw was Be Kind, Rewind, which isn't even worth reviewing. I've been extraordinarily self-involved, drinking and carousing and filling my time with mindless entertainment. Boys. Booze. Work. Quotes from Willow. Food. Blogs about myself. Shit like that.

Speaking of shit like that...

They (those nameless assholes) say that men reach their sexual peak at 19. And women at 30. Based on that totally insupportable statistic, I maintain that it is natural and right for a woman of 28 to be single and completely obsessed with her own satisfaction. Men get that whole "oat sowing" period until their 30s. Beyond that (based on the above), they're practically useless to us women for anything but loosening pickle jar lids. Or donating for procreational purposes. THEN they get into their 40s or later, whatever, and they get to have a mid-life crisis and fuck around with a skinny bitch 20 years their junior. Unless they are extraordinarily rich and named Elizabeth Taylor, women have no such option. I'm here to say that I believe this to be bullshit. And maybe this is just classic female rationalization for treating another human being like a toy. So what if it is. At least we feel guilty about it. Sort of. Enough to over-analyze in a blog post after a couple blueberry vodka tonics. On a Thursday.

But seriously...try to follow along this train of thought here, I promise it will lead to a point. Women's bodies are constructed in such a way that giving birth is easiest to do and recover from during the younger years, the same time men are at their sexual peak. And yet, our bodies begin to reject the idea (and fact) of pregnancy once we pass our 30s...when sex should be at it's best for us. Once we're finally inspired to have as much of it as possible. How fucked up is that? Which milestone birthday of Fate's did we forget to be punished with such a reality?

In a perfect world, men and women would be perfectly synced in this regard. Both genders' peaks would be at approximately the same age. And at that time, an internal switch would flip, and *poof*, procreation is possible (and OPTIONAL). And that age would be around 30. Maybe 32. I don't know what difference the two years would make, but 30 sounded too round. Think about how much more willing we women would be to furnish the Earth if such a world existed. Unless I'm the only woman who thinks this way. But I really don't think I am. I want my cake and I want to eat it too...only I want the cake to be a brownie...but I want to be able to try partners on for size without having to decide right away if they're going to be the one who provides me with midge-sized versions of myself for the next several years. I want the option to wait until I'm fucking READY to "settle down". I hate that term but it fits. Mean have that option. Women start panicking at just about this age. Even me.

Ok, maybe I never got to a concrete point, but it's late and I'm tired and if I read this thing I'll never post it. So I'm just going to post it and go to bed and maybe tomorrow my work day will be slow enough that I'll have something light and airy to write about before anyone sees this.

Peace out, bitches.