First, let me state, I’ve got an amazing (rent-stabilized) apartment in Brooklyn (think Crown Heights not the Berg), wonderful friends and am dating some fantastic guys…now the only thing missing is a decent (or tolerable at least) job in New York to have it all!
My last boss was an ex cop (think trashy movie from the 80’s – the dude had a Marine flat top hair cut and wore his phone on his belt – I kid you not) who kissed me on both cheeks the first day we met while another coworker said, “Oh Fred loves to kiss the pretty girls,” and laughed. The woman who was training me for the role made it clear if I wanted to keep the job it was best to flirt with him. I wanted to throw up….needless to say…I did no flirting and it was a problem for me.
My first foray into blogging was with a dating blog that got me through the disillusion of dreams of ever doing the whole married with kids thing (hindsight, I’m relieved to have skipped the first round of marriage and hope to settle in with a great guy who already went down this marriage/kid road with someone else). I had a broken engagement (about 2 years ago now) with a guy who I was engaged to went canoeing with our couples therapist (not sure if that was code for something else but they did go alone…as friends)…I digress…..needless to say…dodged a bullet with that one….although I do miss the cat.
I’d love a family but not via my genetics or body (luckily soon we may just grow babies in giant sandwich bags which will be great for people like me who don’t want to grow a living thing inside ones body cavity – check out this Verge article – read all about the reality for growing babies in bags…here). The idea of being pregnant may excite some women, however, for me, scenes from Alien usually crowd my mental vision or I think about what would happen if the baby tried to eat me from the inside, to get out (Walking Dead influence I think? I just can’t help but love that show).
This being said, I think kids are great, I just don’t want to grow one myself (well, there is this one beautiful man whose child I’d grow if given the opportunity but my age is an issue…oh…and the fact he is married and not interested in me that way) but anyhow….this is my blog…names have been changed….including mine…to avoid any awkward run-ins or legal issues and whatnot.
I hope you enjoy and share my blog with anyone you think may be interested in reading about just one specific 43 year old woman’s life living in New York right now, let’s call me Louise Rourke, I like the name and hope you do too. My apartment is not as nice as Hannah’s or Carrie’s (I had to Google the names of both characters but truth be told, I fucking love Girls – even though I should be too old to relate – I totally relate to a lot of the issues presented on the show. Sex in the City was more of a guilty pleasure with no relatable life experiences).