Why is it that so many people think that for a woman to be self-actualized and equal — in the workplace, in the home, in her sexuality — she has to act like a man? I don’t see how sleeping with a bunch of men and ignoring them later makes me any stronger or wiser. I don’t see how shattering the glass ceiling by working ridiculous hours and ignoring my children gives me any sort of independence. I don’t see how ignoring household chores and letting my children care for themselves before they really understand who they are offers me freedom. So often what is held up as equality isn’t equal at all, it’s reduction of the female self to an outdated patriarchal view of how the world ought to operate. And I’m simply not on board with it.
Most days I want to move back to New York. I miss New York. I wish I had an income to support New York. Even more I wish I had an income to support my children attending the Waldorf school there if I lived there again.
Ah, c’est la vie.
Concise and forcefully expressive, but not really. Concise, but maybe slightly less than forceful. Insightful perhaps, but who really cares observations. That would describe it best, but takes up too much room.
Simple desire? I want to put a ponytail on my head like Pebbles in the Flintstones. That’s my first one.
I keep thinking that I want to start a page on my blog that is called Pithy Observations. It would be filled with the sort of nonsense one normally finds on Twitter or Facebook, but that I generally don’t say because really, who cares? No one would care here either, but since this is not read as much then my pithy ideas would go more unnoticed. These thoughts are the sorts of things that pass through my brain for a while, taking up space. If I wrote them down, they might go away. Well, maybe.