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Jan. 17th, 2005 10:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickI was up until 3 AM this morning reading absolutely delightful porn, which you'd think would have left me in a good (if tired) mood this morning. I was actually in a pretty good mood until I read the news today, oh boy. See, Mr. David Brooks of The NYT said that if I didn't have babies, I was going to suffer profound, soul-encompassing sadness.
Mr Brooks? You're not the first sad bastard to try to tell me that. I've been hearing what a damn swell idea motherhood is since I was about five. I've heard it from the women in my family, from my friends who have children, from men I thought I loved, from my father, from men I was desperate to sleep with... it's amazing, the variety of people who've tried to sell me on motherhood. (It seems so very... Amway. Are you all on commission or something?) I'm not buying it. I didn't want to grow up to be a mommy when I was five, or when I was fifteen, or when I was twenty-five, or when I was thirty. I won't be thirty-five until April rolls around, but I bet you dollars to doughnuts that I will not want to be a mommy then, either. A vast array of people have been trying to sell me on motherhood for practically my entire life, and I'm still not buying.
Hate to disappoint, too, Mr. Brooks, but I'm not a ball-breaking dyke. That was your first guess, wasn't it? Sorry, no interest in that sort of thing. I like men, like 'em a lot. What the hell's the lyric? Ah, yes. Fucked a bunch of stupid men, went back and fucked 'em all again... that'd be me.
I just don't think it's a particularly good idea to *depend* on a man. I've seen how that goes, you know. What happens there is that you bear children to the man. As a result, your ass spreads wide and you get stretch marks. You're tired all the time from watching the kids and you don't feel even remotely sexy because Blue's Clues isn't exactly your idea of sexy conversation and that's what you do all day. He feels tied down or like he's getting old or whatever and he goes off fucking some chickie ten years younger than you are who DOESN'T have a fat ass or stretch marks and who makes him feel like a man again. Yippee. And you, you poor dumb cunt, you have small children and something like five years out of the workforce, so what are you gonna do? You don't even FIT in your work clothes anymore and you've forgotten how to talk to an adult because all you see all day long are people under the age of six. Going back out in the workforce? Sure, you are.
Go get 'em, tiger. And desperation? It's a good look for you.
No, I don't think I'll be gunning for a spot on that reality show any time soon, thanks.
Are there other sorts of marriages? Sure. Many of them seem to support reasonably happy people in fairly stable, equitable relationships... and hell, slightly more than half of all marriages will probably not end in divorce. (Yes, I do have stats to back my ass up on this one. http://www.divorcereform.org/rates.html , to wit "About 50% of first marriages for men under age 45 may end in divorce and between 44 and 52% of women's first marriages may end in divorce for these age groups." It's a little waffle-y, but I think you've got the general idea, there.) If I get married, the odds that my marriage will end in divorce are something between 44 and 52%.
I'm supposed to be rushing in to a huge time committment, massive responsibility, severely limited freedom, and economic dependence in the face of odds like that? Good lord, man, no baby is that cute. Not even mine. Do you think I'm stupid, Mr. Brooks? No, wait, I forgot the punchline... give the dumb one a cunt. Righty-ho. Sorry. Yes. You do think I'm stupid.
And not like it matters, since I've just thrown enough bile on the page to be permanently chalked up as a bitter, ball-breaking bitch with absolutely no human feeling, but Mr. Brooks, you didn't even mention the men who would be going childless. Don't they get to have profound, soul-encompassing sadness too? Or is it different for them? Do tell...
Mr Brooks? You're not the first sad bastard to try to tell me that. I've been hearing what a damn swell idea motherhood is since I was about five. I've heard it from the women in my family, from my friends who have children, from men I thought I loved, from my father, from men I was desperate to sleep with... it's amazing, the variety of people who've tried to sell me on motherhood. (It seems so very... Amway. Are you all on commission or something?) I'm not buying it. I didn't want to grow up to be a mommy when I was five, or when I was fifteen, or when I was twenty-five, or when I was thirty. I won't be thirty-five until April rolls around, but I bet you dollars to doughnuts that I will not want to be a mommy then, either. A vast array of people have been trying to sell me on motherhood for practically my entire life, and I'm still not buying.
Hate to disappoint, too, Mr. Brooks, but I'm not a ball-breaking dyke. That was your first guess, wasn't it? Sorry, no interest in that sort of thing. I like men, like 'em a lot. What the hell's the lyric? Ah, yes. Fucked a bunch of stupid men, went back and fucked 'em all again... that'd be me.
I just don't think it's a particularly good idea to *depend* on a man. I've seen how that goes, you know. What happens there is that you bear children to the man. As a result, your ass spreads wide and you get stretch marks. You're tired all the time from watching the kids and you don't feel even remotely sexy because Blue's Clues isn't exactly your idea of sexy conversation and that's what you do all day. He feels tied down or like he's getting old or whatever and he goes off fucking some chickie ten years younger than you are who DOESN'T have a fat ass or stretch marks and who makes him feel like a man again. Yippee. And you, you poor dumb cunt, you have small children and something like five years out of the workforce, so what are you gonna do? You don't even FIT in your work clothes anymore and you've forgotten how to talk to an adult because all you see all day long are people under the age of six. Going back out in the workforce? Sure, you are.
Go get 'em, tiger. And desperation? It's a good look for you.
No, I don't think I'll be gunning for a spot on that reality show any time soon, thanks.
Are there other sorts of marriages? Sure. Many of them seem to support reasonably happy people in fairly stable, equitable relationships... and hell, slightly more than half of all marriages will probably not end in divorce. (Yes, I do have stats to back my ass up on this one. http://www.divorcereform.org/rates.html , to wit "About 50% of first marriages for men under age 45 may end in divorce and between 44 and 52% of women's first marriages may end in divorce for these age groups." It's a little waffle-y, but I think you've got the general idea, there.) If I get married, the odds that my marriage will end in divorce are something between 44 and 52%.
I'm supposed to be rushing in to a huge time committment, massive responsibility, severely limited freedom, and economic dependence in the face of odds like that? Good lord, man, no baby is that cute. Not even mine. Do you think I'm stupid, Mr. Brooks? No, wait, I forgot the punchline... give the dumb one a cunt. Righty-ho. Sorry. Yes. You do think I'm stupid.
And not like it matters, since I've just thrown enough bile on the page to be permanently chalked up as a bitter, ball-breaking bitch with absolutely no human feeling, but Mr. Brooks, you didn't even mention the men who would be going childless. Don't they get to have profound, soul-encompassing sadness too? Or is it different for them? Do tell...
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no subject
Date: 2005-01-17 05:38 pm (UTC)Heh.
I might or might not have kids. I ain't done decided yet, but if I do, I'm not planning to have this gigantic elephant called Baby living in my house. I think it is possible to have kids and still be a functional human being, just a lot of people go way the fuck overboard, and totally abandon everything that made them themselves after they pop out a sprog or two. Hobbies, friends, personalities...who needs 'em when you've got a pooping, yowling bundle of love, right?