A few quick things because I'm busy.

I've been out every night this week.

I've been working my ass off at work. I can barely think anymore and seem to be growing increasingly irritable because of it.

someone has been doing a full-court press to get me into Phillie tonight. Very suspicious. She called in the reinforcements to pressure me.

I say fuck the pressure. Chill, I'll be there. But we are doing what I want to do, so be prepared for a change in plans. I am not, I repeat, NOT, standing in some hot and crowded bar getting hit on by some goombahs on South Street.

This week has been "Have a Crush on Partygirl Week." One of my favorite theme weeks. However, mainly the participants of this festival are freaks and I can really only humor so much. I've reached my breaking point. I met a cute guy last night, but I think riot may have scared him with her obsession bordering on fanaticism of the Yankees. Particularly since his opening line to me was, "how 'bout those Mets?" Who asks that?!?

I'm joining Gingi on the Boy Hiatus. I'll admit it. I still kinda think about the writer. I think I need to get my shit together before going back in to those waters.

*~*

I was thinking, after reading Ms. Gingi, how funny is it that we all split up last night after drinks but ended up waxing poetic about Feminism?

Joaninha and I stayed with Riot's friend, A., last night. A. rocks. I mean, A. *really* rocks. She's married and she and her husband are musicians. We spoke a lot about working to be monogamous; the fallacy that it's easier for women than men. We spoke about settling. About how I never want to settle. Never to be the chick who drives one of the grocery-go-getters around in suburbia. Dressing my kid in clothes from Gap Kids, like little stepford children. Losing my sense of self to conform tp society's role of the mom and wife.

Fuck society.

We discussed what it was like to watch our mothers or our friends mothers regroup after failed marriages. What it was like at 11 and 12 years old to be the adult in that relationship and explain to a 30-ish woman what she should expect on a date, or how to create a resume. or what to wear on an interview.

We watched our mothers wake up one day and realize that they had lost their best years changing diapers and teaching Phonix (sp?) and now had no skills marketable outside of a home. We helped them launch second careers, to get back into the game.

And all this time, we grew up too. Adding this knowledge to our life experiences.

I'm afraid to wake up one day and not recognize the woman in mirror. I don't want to ever say, "I should have gone out more. I should have seen that band. I should have done that." I don't want to wish I had achieved success at something other than birthing.

But I do want to have children.

It's all so fucked up. But it's good to know that everyone else is fucked up about it too.

Okay...gotta go.

Don't forget to call your Mom this weekend!

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