Day 272: The Driving Range, The Lake House & The Notebook

Saturday, June 14

I kept the promise of an improved night’s sleep and managed to clock in just over eight hours, about an hour and a half more than what I had been getting during the work week.  When I woke up, the sun was already strong and penetrating through my silk drapes.  I stretched and felt great – no congestion, just clear and happy.

I went downstairs and made myself two breakfast tacos.  I heated two corn tortillas over the burner and then divided one scrambled organic, free range egg between the two.  I added a low fat Mexican blend of cheeses and topped with a roasted garlic and cilantro salsa.  It made for a pretty good impromptu breakfast taco.

After, I cleaned the kitchen - not just the pans and dishes, but I cleared the counters and I scrubbed them down with Mrs. Meyer’s eco-friendly kitchen cleaner.  I don’t know.  I like cleaning.  It’s a kind of therapy, the motions, the progress.

And then I began to plan out my weekend.  Whether I would follow it through or not, it’s a little exercise I like to do, like making a shopping list or any other to do list that can rule my life.  I am a list maker.  I planned for the driving range and going over to the Oswego Boat House later.  And then, for Sunday, I listed out going to church, perhaps going to a yoga class and then going to the Writers Dojo.

I changed into a pair of cargo Bermuda-style shorts and an Adidas golf shirt.  I pulled out my Nike golf shoes from my storage closet out on the deck, and then with a huge smile on my face, I headed to my car with my clubs over my shoulder.  I stopped by Starbucks and ordered a green tea latte with nonfat milk and a small botte of Naked Mighty Mango antioxidant juice smoothie.  I drove to the Tualatin Island Greens Golf Center on SW Cipole Road. 

I parked, put on my golf shoes and grabbed my bag and headed for the golf shop to buy a large bucket of balls for the driving range.  When I made my way out to the mats, I was surprised to find a new friend of mine out there.  I picked up my stuff and got settled in the spot next to his.  It was nice to see a familiar face.

Anyway, I opened up my golf notebook and reviewed the drills I had pencilled in there last August and September when I took lessons at Trilogy Golf Course up in Redmond, WA.  I adored my instructor, a great guy from Oklahoma.  Anyway, he turned around my game.  He fixed my grip, my swing and gave me all kinds of great drills customized for my game, to challenge me and to keep my swing in good shape.

I did the drills in my notebook and was pleased, over all, with my round at the range.  This was my first time out since last September.  I think I acquiesced from going to the driving range or golf course because I was afraid I’d mess up and wouldn’t be able to get my swing together, since it had been so long since my lessons up at Trilogy.  Luckily, that wasn’t the case.

After my practice round, I went home, freshened up a little and drove over to the Oswego Lake House.  It was so gorgeous out – a perfect blue sky, warm sun and so comfortable out I could have napped at my table.  I brought my latest issue of Golf for Women magazine, my novel and my writing notebook.  While I sat at my table on the deck, right along the edge of the lake, it occurred to me I should write an article for Golf for Women.  I ordered a top shelf margarita on the rocks with salt, which was perfectly refreshing.  I felt the sun on me, giving me a slight tan.

I ordered a medium-rare burger with no bun and since I couldn’t eat the side of fries, they substituted a side salad.  It was okay, but I was still hungry.  I had only consumed the two small breakfast tacos and the Starbucks beverages.  I needed my sustenance. 

While I was noshing on the burger, I flipped through Golf for Women.  There was a story about a Spanish actress and model named Ines Sastre, who is my age (34).  She’s unmarried, gorgeous and looks happy, healthy and well.  She’s an avid golfer and has played in a number of pro-am and celebrity tournaments.  She’s even won a few.  It’s truly a great thing to see women my age not necessarily married or with kids or living status quo lives.  It’s inspiring to see women like Ines living extraordinary, exciting lives – playing golf really well and just doing her own thing.  I wouldn’t suggest that women my age who are married or mothers can’t have extraordinary lives -  I just don’t relate to them in the same way. 

Reading about this interesting celeb-golfer made me want to work on my game and possibly compete.  I really need to play more often and I probably should have joined that women’s league I was introduced to a few month’s ago.  Oh, well.  I don’t think I was really ready to commit to that kind of play just yet.  That doesn’t mean I cannot play toward a handicap.  We’ll see.

I was still hungry and ordered a fully loaded baked potato and a small glass of Sonoma-Cutrer Chardonnay.  And finished up with a ramekin of creme brulee topped with a few blueberries and raspberries and a coconut cream drizzled over the fruit.  It was pretty good.

By eight o’clock I had finished editing a chapter of my book and I was ready to go home.  I couldn’t get over how beautiful the evening was and how lovey the lake evolved as evening was coming to a close.  I finished my water, payed the bill and left before the sun went down.

I segued over to Whole Foods at Bridgeport to pick up some groceries and then wandered over to the Borders.  I picked up an anthology of William Stafford’s poetry.

When I got home, the movie The Notebook was on.  The last time I saw it, which was also the first time, I was visiting my sister in Chattanooga.  I was there for work, doing a three-city stint to include Atlanta and Birmingham.  Anyway, I was very sad and, well, when my sister and I watched that movie on DVD, I couldn’t remember when I had cried like that - except for when my most recent ex had broken up with me.  It’s not just the effect of a typical, sappy chick flick that makes most women (and supposedly even men!) cry.  For me, it was different. 

It was this painful pang of living a life of not ever having anyone love me the way the character Noah loved his Ally.  I do know there are real love stories like Noah and Ally’s.  It does happen – few and far between.  But, as cynical as I have become, as cynical as some of my blog posts have at times been,  I know this to be true.  And watching this film, watching this love story unfold, my heart ached and broke all over again.  I have loved almost to that degree just twice in my life.  But, I don’t think I have ever been loved back like that.  That devastates and worries me.  And I was devastated by the same worry when I watched the movie for the first time with my sister.  I lost it.  And she comforted me.  It might sound trite – but she knew exactly what I was feeling.

And there, I had realized my greatest lament and fear about love.  I don’t want to end up with someone who just loves me fine.  I want to find someone who loves me the way Noah loved Ally – so fully, so painfully that he couldn’t bear to ever lose her – ever.  Not in their youth, not after their second reunion, and not in their elderly decline.  But, I also want to feel that way about the love of my life, too.  It’s not easy to find that, where two people feel that intensely and deeply for another.  Few couples really shared that level of undying and unconditional love.  Ally’s mother was a perfect example of a person who went the safe route, giving up her own opportunity for that kind of love. 

And perhaps I had already lost my chance.  I know I have certainly loved and ached for my ex more so than I have ever for another.  I never fully understood my connection to him, only that I was deeply wounded twice by our two break-ups (once back in 2000, and then again in 2005).  And so, when I turned the television on this evening and this film was on, I felt that sadness that hasn’t quite left.  I imagined him, my ex.  He has a remarkable likeness to Ryan Gosling, the actor who portrayed the young Noah.  My heart broke all over again.  Only this time my sister wasn’t here to comfort me. 

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Day 263: News Report – Why Men Fear Marriage

Thursday, June 5

Wait.  Is this really June?  Really?  Well, so far this June sucks.  It’s more like March.  It’s cold out.  It’s cloudy and gray.  Oh yeah, it’s Portland.  Where did I think I was when I woke up?

Anyway.  I could rant on and on about how messed up the seasons are out here.  But when it’s good, man, it’s unbelievable.  Portlanders have to hang on to that, grasp it like a dream, else crazy takes over.  Seriously.

Anyway, I woke up groggy.  But I got out of bed and took a warm shower – it was like an Irish Spring commercial.  Well, not really.  But I have some amazing aromatherapy body scrubs and washes (in ginger, lemongrass, citrus, rosemary and sage) that seriously do invigorate.  Won’t change your life, but will get your butt to work.

Again with the neti pot and Wellness supplement.  That’s been my sinus infection exit strategy.  So far, so good.  And by the time I left the house I was feeling better, or at least clear.  But about mid-commute I was getting congested.  It’s so weird, the way of my nasal passages.

I got to work and took a Claritan-D.  I then made a cup of Yogi Chammomile tea and got back to work.  

Oh, and for lunch I had the best gluten free sandwhich I have ever had, to date.  I cut two slices of Whole Food’s Honey Oat gluten free bread, which is amazing.  The trick with gluten free bread is to stick it in the microwave for a few minutes.  This minimizes the typical crumbling.  I added organic smoked turkey breast (no nitrates or hormones, etc.), fresh, organic Romaine lettuce, organic white cheddar cheese slices and mustard.  I also had an organic dill pickle.  It was a great lunch!

My co-worker was so sweet to bring me a gluten free chocolate cookie she picked up at Whole Foods.  I had it with some fresh cherries I brought.  The cookie was more like a brownie.  So good.

But by 4:15 I was feeling like I was going to pass out.  I very suddenly got tired and started to get warm.  Then I began to sweat a little.  Then I was hot.  I knew I had a fever again.  My co-worker gave me an Aleve and I went home.  I was done.

I ordered some chicken Pho for dinner for take out.  I was still congested.  Great.  As I sat back and ate my dinner, I heard a news report on why men are supposedly afraid of getting married.  They fear the marriage will end badly, with a bitter divorce, leaving them in financial ruin. 

On one hand, I can see their point.  But, on the other hand I find this incredibly demeaning and depressing.  First, it makes me think of nothing but greed.  I guess it really is all about money.   But, I even stated in one of my recent posts that so many marriages today are less about love, respect and companionship, and are more like business transactions.  Mergers.  Or sometimes acquisitions.  If men keep this fear or greed, or whatever you want to call it, in the back of their minds when they are making a commitment to a woman, then they are pretty much doomed, as far as I’m concerned. 

It seems to me if these men were more confident and competent in making a choice for a mate then they shouldn’t be worrying about divorce – and believe me, I know it goes both ways.  I’m just saying that a thoughtful, mature man (or woman) should be able to make a sensible decision in who he (she) chooses to marry.  And it takes a lot of hard work to make a marriage last.  

I think another part of the problem is with people who marry too young (before 30, in my opinion), as they have more than 50% chance of falling to a fate of divorce.  I think people who marry in their 20′s are a little crazy.  It seems to me that for those who grow up and live an independent adult life in their 20′s, well, they’ll have more time to become financially secure (both men and women), to figure out who they are and what they have to offer, and to discover what it is they really want out of life and a partner.  So, if you give yourself ample time to learn those very important things, by the time you’re in your thirties, and older, you are better positioned to make sensible decisions in selecting the right kind of partner and securing an enduring, strong marriage.  Statistics will teach you that.  And statistics don’t lie!!

If, I mean when I become a successful writer, and if, I mean when I meet ‘the one’, am I going to have to get him to sign a pre-nup?  Now that I know that men fear financial ruin from divorce, I don’t want to make myself, or my hard-earned financial success, fall to ruin, either.  Still, that’s so unromantic to me.  Perhaps practical, but unromantic.

It often seems like there’s no room for faith in love and marriage in today’s world.  The disease of divorce spreads too quickly like a pandemic.  It’s shocking to me how many men in their thirties are divorced in Oregon.  I’m not really sure what’s going on with the women, but I’ll assume they’re the other halves of that.  These are the guys who married in their 20′s, the guys who seem to really fear financial ruin if they marry a second time.  And who can blame them?  And if the divorce was their fault (cheating, abuse, addictions) that is likely to cost them more in a divorce, I imagine.

I guess if there’s any fear going into a potential marriage, wheather its rooted in finances, lack of self esteem, lack of trust – whatever – there’s a red flag.  And that person should know when to walk away.  But too many people settle and find themselves in less than desirable situations.  And live to regret it, in one way or another.

So, I don’t know how to resolve this issue, not that I’m trying to resolve it.  But, I think it’s silly for men to mope around with fear of marriage because they don’t want to fall to financial ruin.  If you end up making a really bad decision, especially the obvious ones, like marrying a golddigger just because she’s hot, or cheating on a sweet, devoted wife – you’re setting yourself up for financial ruin!   And I think you’re upping your chances for it, too, if you marry when you’re still a kid.  Hint to yourself -you probably shoudn’t marry if you can barely balance your checkbook

Seriously.  What is the rush??  If you meet the person you’re supposed to be with forever, then wait.  If they’re really the one, they’ll still be there when you’ve grown up a little.  Because you’re meant to be with them forever.  Right?  It’s a good test to see if you’re with the right person. 

By the time you’re in your 30′s you don’t necessarily need the same kind of test.  It’s funny.  I actually laugh when I think about my twenties.  Now.  At the time, well, my twenties were full of all kinds of growing pains.  Learning how to be fiscally responsible, figuring out what I wanted to do with my life, learning to live on my own.  These were incredibly important.  Equally important was putting myself in debt, travelling to Europe where I had a couple of amazing love stories, and chasing my dreams.

Interestingly enough, I could have been married twice in my twenties.  And I was soooo in loooove.  I was convinced that I was mature enough and ready for it.   I am so glad that I didn’t do it.  I’d either be divorced now or very unhappily married.  I am a totally different person than I was back then and it truly is a blessing that I got to have that precious time to learn so much about myself.  I really do have so much more to offer someone now at this age (34) than I ever could as a 20-something girl.  And that means I’m looking for a totally different kind of man to share my life with, as well.  But… that’s just me.

Anyway.  For those who are afraid of financial ruin from divorce, whether they were married and divorced before, or if they’re over 30, guys, lighten up and maybe get some therapy.  Everyone needs therapy, so don’t feel bad.  But, seriously, you guys need to talk to someone about those fears.  And if you’re that afraid, perhaps you’ll need a prenup to feel secure.  Nuff said.  I think I’ve beaten this dead horse beyond inhumane cause for imprisonment.

 

 

 

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Day 257: Sex & the City Opening Night

Friday, May 30

My friends and I have been waiting since February for the Sex & The City movie.  Tonight was opening night!  We bought our tickets two nights ago, as the movie times were all sold out in downtown Portland.  I could only find tickets at Cinetopia, a theater catered to adults 21 and over, with a bar, restaurant, wine room and special events.  Cinetopia is in Vancouver, so it’s a little hike across the Columbia River, separating Oregon from Washington.

I rushed home with excitement after work.  I put on a pair of ‘good’ jeans, a billowy silk BCBG shirt with a plunging neckline, a funky matching smoky topaz necklace, a green puff sleeved jacket from Anthropologie with striping the same color as the smoky taupe shirt, and a great pair of shoes.  Not Manolos, but fabulous enough.  I shined up my hair, added more dramatic make-up and grabbed a gold glitter clutch.  I was ready for the ultimate girl’s night out.

I met Kerry at Ten-01 in the Pearl, imbibing a champagne cocktail at the outdoor cafe seating.  She had her hair down and styled, and was wearing a very stylish black and white wrap dress.  I also ordered the same cocktail - it had Compari and a touch of sugar to enliven the bubbles.  And an orange peel.  We loved this bubbly concoction because it wasn’t sweet.

Our friend, Erica, the sommelier came out to chat.  She sat down and we gabbed about the food and wine industry, her recent trip to France, work stuff.

Soon after, Susan joined us, as well as another friend and colleague, Stephany – a fellow Virginian.  We were celebrating a pre-Sex & the City movie happy hour.  It was a lovely evening out, sunny and warm.  We happy sipped on our cocktails and ordered some food.  Kerry and I shared a half dozen oysters and then I had the duck prosciutto salad with blue cheese and dates.  It was delicious.  I enjoyed it with a glass of Burgundy.

When we finished our pre-movie celebration, we got into Susan’s car, which was conveniently parked across the street, and we headed toward Vancouver.  We didn’t follow the exact directions and took the longer route, which was a little intense because we were behind schedule.  They suggested people arrive at 9:15 p.m. to get seats at 9:30 p.m. for the 10 p.m. show time.  Well, when we got there and picked up the tickets, the theater was already full with the 3 random seats scattered.  Defeated, we left the theater and traded the tickets in for the 10:45 show so that we could sit together.

We checked out the wine bar – it had some really wonderful selections.  Finally, at 10:48 Kerry and I peeled ourselves from the wine bar and found our seats with Susan and two of Kerry’s friends.

The lights dimmed.  The recognizable jazzy theme song blared and all of the women in the audience started to cheer.  It was fabulous!  Sex & the City is our football!  And this movie was the Super Bowl of our favorite team!!

Now, I’m not going to recap the movie.  I will say this – it was luminous, this fab four never looked more fabulous.  And there were some great moments.  I won’t give a full play-by-play recap of the movie.  But, I will give it a review.

And here’s the thing.  I really, really, really wanted to love this movie.  Kerry and I were shunning the NY Times and other critics who dissed the movie. 

But, I gotta say, while just being in the theater with my girlfriends watching this on screen was pretty satisfying enough, the movie left me disappointed.  Now, I know this is fictional.  These women are characters.  It’s a story!  But, having been a true fan of the series, which was so smart and well written on the small screen, earning a plethora of Golden Globes and Emmy’s, among a longer list of shining accolades and awards, the film missed it on so many levels.

For one, there were several deep contradictions.  For example, at one point a heart-broken Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker – do I really need to include that??), is reading Cinderella to Charlotte’s daughter, Lily, and whereupon the ending reads as every little girl and woman knows by heart, “Cinderella marries her prince charming and they live happily ever after.”  Then Carrie looks down at the wide-eyed little girl and says, “you know, that doesn’t really happen in real life.  I just thought you should know that now.”

And yet…Carrie gets her saccharine happily ever after.  After her prince charming had piteously left Carrie at the altar…  wait, it wasn’t even at the altar.  He never even got out of the limo!  I was never convinced Big was the right man for Carrie, with his cruel indecisiveness and stringing-along practice perfected.  Throughout the series, you always knew that Carrie loved Big more than Big loved Carrie.  And my mother always said, “marry a man who loves you a little more than you love him.”  This is very important advice.

After Big’s display of cold feet and run-away-groom absurdity, I thought for sure she was finally rid of the egotistical, commitment-phobe schmuck.  Here, I was hoping she’d run into Aiden all over again!  One can only hope…

I will say that the film is fair to Samantha’s character.  Her storyline was believable and in tandem with her character arch (from the series).  I thought Miranda’s storyline was also fair and true to her character.

Charlotte, on the other hand, who was much more of a complex and interesting character in the series, was reduced to a boring and pregnant wife and mommy.  Her life turned cliche and offered no real impact on the storyline, other than a ridiculous bout of Montezuma’s Revenge in Mexico.  In fact, Charlotte was just another accessory in the film, even diminished by an inanimate object – Carrie’s Vivienne Westwood bridal gown.

Also trite was the assistant Louise, portrayed by American Idol finalist and Dream Girls Academy Award winning actress Jennifer Hudson.  In one scene, over drinks, Carrie offers a sagey line to her young assistant – you date in your 20′s, you learn in your 30′s and you buy drinks in your 40′s.  Not sure if that was any real worthwhile advice.  Again, the writing was not as sharp as in the HBO series.  In any case, Louise claims to have come to New York City for love.  But, this never develops while she’s in New York.  She never goes on dates or meets men – in fact, the only scene where she’s with a man, he’s glancing at her cleavage and she scolds, “there’s nothing in there for you.”  Her character never actually gives New York a chance for finding love.  Except for a random booty call she gets when she and Carrie are sipping on cocktails on the said night.  Rather, she returns home to St. Louis for the holidays and befalls the fate of many desperate women – finding herself back in the arms of an ex.  Sold out in her 20′s!  Where’s the dating???  I suppose Louise will sadly have to miss out on all of that dating in her 20′s, and, worse, learning all of the ever important lessons we single women learn in our 30′s!

I will say that my biggest disappointment was Carrie’s fate.  Half of the movie, more like two-thirds of it, was spent on her mourning the fact that Big ditched her at the altar.  And, yet, over time, perhaps a year, she changes her hair color, hangs out with a suddenly separated Miranda, sharing in their loneliness and bitterness, until she wanders into her emptied penthouse apartment she and Big were to move into as a married couple, to retrieve a precious pair of Manolos, of course, when she…no way!….runs into Big.  They have a crazy passionate suck-face kiss and end up laying down in each other’s arms on the wooden floor of the fabulous apartment and realize how much they really love each other.  He’s on bended knee and gives her the cliched proposal he swore he was against.  Everyone sold out.  Even Big. 

I don’t know.  It just wasn’t satisfying to me.  I was kind of sad.  The film, that once celebrated an iconic character’s free spirit, romantic hope for finding true love, smart, hardworking, independent single woman status was reduced to a cliche finale.   Big’s love for her was never truly convincing.  And icon Carrie Bradshaw deserved a happier, better ending! 

It actually would have been better if she remained in her apartment, single and writing her fabulous column, articles and books.  And still near her fabulous friends, of course.  Proving a point that you don’t have to settle for a man you keep chasing and hoping will love you back.  You don’t have to settle for anyone.  You can, actually, continue to live a satisfying, fabulous life on your own.  The film ends with the fab four celebrating Samantha’s 50th birthday – and we get a glimpse that her life is  the only authentic, true one.  Well, hers and Miranda’s.

The best part of watching the movie, actually, was the opportunity to hang out again with Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha for another two and a half hours.  These were some of the best roles created for women – ever.  Even if the movie fell short.

Their friendship is truly the keystone to the movie and the series.  Women weren’t herding to theaters to see these character’s love lives play out.  Instead, they wanted to hang out with their girlfriends once more, these four women who tell it like it is and support eachother through the good, the bad and the ugly. 

What’s so real and authentic about this program/movie was that it never really lost its footing in the often shallow and materialistic nonsense of Manolos and Jimmy Choos (which is just plain fun, anyhow).  It’s clear that that was just the fluff and fun of the story.  There’s a real depth to these women’s friendships, and that’s what’s most memorable and satisfying. 

In New York, or anywhere else for the matter, love and lovers come and go.  But it’s your girlfriends who stick around for the stuff that spouses and lovers could never realize or understand.  Well, that was why I was so compelled to go see the movie.  It was the ultimate girl’s night out, a date night with my fabulous gal pals - the four on screen and the two sitting next to me.  It was the kind of bonding that makes you realize how lucky you are to have your soul sisters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Day 227: Finding Love, Love, Love

Wednesday, April 30
11:09 p.m.

Call it the promise of better weather – we Portlanders have had a taste of some sunshine and warmth, and despite the bizarre April weather, we’re happily welcoming a more promising May – but,  in the spirit of hope and change, I am turning a new leaf.

I am realizing that opening myself up to love is all about perspective.  I have opened myself up to love of self, friends, animals, earth, family, vocation and even Portland!  That’s been the stimulus to this blog.  But, where I have failed to properly open myself up is in the arena of romantic love.  Now, I don’t want to get trite or lame here. 

Romantic or not, and despite what The Oregonian implied of me and my blog, “Leah Jorgensen is looking for love.  …”, from Margie Boule’s March 23 column, I am not desperate! 

The thing is, I have been repelling love.  I had this almost egotistical too-good-for-love attitude.  I found individuals stuck in couplehood to be annoying and lame (not really).  But, I believed the women in those relationships gave up their independence, sense of self and happiness just to be in a relationship, to follow society’s archiac and masogynistic rule.  I know, I know…

This has only led to me toiling over wanting love, then not wanting love, then wanting love, then not wanting love, then wanting love… just like a woman, right?!  But my fear is real.  I don’t want to lose myself in a relationship.  This terrifies me.  Compromise often turns bright, successful, educated, savvy, interesting women into lesser versions of themselves, and, often they turn into mommies and cleaning ladies to their uninteresting, ungrateful men.  Ugh.  I’m just not willing to do that. 

I often think that married people should live apart.  That way, if the guy wants to be a gross slob he can do so without the nagging, he can have all of his gross friends over to drink beer, smoke cigars, play poker and watch Sports Center and porn.  And if a woman wants a clean, healthy, lovely home she can bask in her happy solitude.  The best part, as soon as she feels a twinge of loneliness, she can go over to her husband’s place, hang out, get a little nookie and then go back to her clean, pretty domain.  Am I the only one who thinks that makes perfect sense???

I know what the next question is…what about the kids?  Ah, the kids.  If the kids are slobs they live with their slobby father.  If they are neat and clean and perfect like mommy dearest, then they get to stay with her.

I know there needs to be compromise.  But are people really happy when they have to compromise all of the time?  And does it make you selfish if you are annoyed by having to compromise all of the time.  I love the phrase ’you pick your battles’.  Hmmm.  Not sure if I subscribe to that one.  Point is, it’s not easy.

And on ABC’s Nightline last night I had a good laugh on a segment about geneticists claiming men will become extinct  and women will prevail and continue to reproduce without the need for sperm.  Researchers say that’s going to happen sooner than later and than men’s sperm counts are on the decline.  What?!?!   

The report asserts:
“The Y chromosome is passed from father to son, it’s what makes babies into boys. Basically the human template is a female: the Y chromosome kicks in a few weeks after conception and makes a boy. “Men are genetically modified women,” explained Sykes. But unlike other chromosomes, the Y chromosome can’t repair itself and will, says Sykes, disappear altogether in about 125,000 years.”

“Every generation one percent of men will have a mutation which reduces their fertility by 10 percent,” explained Sykes. Unlike most chromosomes, the Y does not travel through the generation in pairs, so can never repair itself from a mirror. Flaws are never repaired. “So if that goes on for generation after generation,” Sykes argued, “eventually there are no functioning Y chromosomes left.”  So no more men…”

“But would the absence of men make the world a better place? There would be far fewer wars without men on the planet, and the U.S. prison population would drop a colossal 97 percent. Road deaths in the U.S. would fall 70 percent.”

Wow.  And then the report posted this:

“But surely, flawed Y chromosome or not, bad behavior or not, we are needed for procreation. Women can’t have babies without us … right? I’m afraid, pretty soon they won’t need our sperm, our chromosomes, our anything. “

“Until now, female-only reproduction has been limited to the plant and animal kingdom. So-called parthenogenesis, observed in the Cape Honey Bee, the Kimono Dragon and the hammerhead shark. In humans: confined to 1950s B movies. But Sykes says the technology for women to procreate without us is just around the corner. “

This makes me wonder – am I just a super-evolved woman who simply realizes her sustainability without the need for a man?  No, I am much more enlightened and compassionate than that.  I don’t hate men and I certainly don’t want to spend my entire life alone.  Don’t get me wrong.  I clearly love my freedom and space to think, to create, to grow and to just be.  It’s glorious.  But, I suspect I will eventually open my heart up at some point.  Yet I will only open my heart to the kind of man who recognizes I can’t compromise myself for the relationship, that I need to be respected, embraced and cherrished for who I am.  I will try my best to do the same.  But, I refuse to be his cleaning lady.  Period.  If he doesn’t know how to keep a clean, clear livable space, he should move back in with his mother for a year and learn what she failed to teach him the first time around.

All kidding aside, I am optimistic that I will find a life partner in every definition of that concept.  It’s all about perspective and lightening up!  And I will pledge to do what I can to help sustain the male specie!

Funny, this evening I heard the wonderfully happy reggae-beat song I’m Yours by Jason Mraz, a fellow Virginian.  His website is great.  It’s hilarious.  Check it out immediately (link is with his name).

I include a few of the lines of his lyrics without permision:

…Before the cool done run out
I’ll be giving it my bestest
Nothing’s going to stop me but divine intervention
I reckon it’s again my turn to win some or learn some

I won’t hesitate no more, no more
It cannot wait, Im yours

Well open up your mind and see like me
Open up your plans and damn your free
Look into your heart and you’ll find love love love love

…I won’t hesitate no mor, no more
It cannot wait I’m sure
There’s no need to complicate
Our time is short
this is our fate, I’m yours

No please, don’t compromise
Our time is short
This is our fate, I’m yours

No please, don’t hesitate
no more, no more
It cannot wait
The sky is yours!

Young songwriter Mraz got it right.  Oh wait, he’s not that young.  Wikipedia has him born in 1977.  Datable.  Totally datable.  Anyway, to his point in the song.  Life is too short.  You just have to open up your mind and look into your heart and you’ll find love right there.  Yup, this is my new theme song. 

Wait a minute!  Maybe that means that the love right there, that I found from this song, links me to the songwriter.  No way.  Maybe Jason Mraz, singer-songwriter from Virginia (I’m from Virginia!) is the love of my life.

Again, I hope there aren’t psychologists out there analyzing my blog… 

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