Life: The Cruel, Sweet Irony of It All
This blog has a few frequently recurring themes. Among them:
1) I was on the street, and someone catcalled me, harassed me, grabbed a tit, etc. These people are are rude, they ruin my day, and just once, I want to kick one of them in the crotch.
2) I grew up in the corn fields of South Dakota. Boy howdy is New York different!
3) Young investment bankers are pigheaded syphillitic cankers on society, and while they must be tolerated for career purposes, they are to be avoided socially at all costs.
So imagine my consternation now that I find myself happily ensconced in a relationship with none other than a hedge-fund analyst! Admittedly, hedge funds are not investment banks, but they do fall squarely within the realm of opportunistic finance. I imagine Life is having a pretty good laugh at me and my preconceived notions now.
While the relationship has been blissfully problem-free thus far (disregarding of course my tendency to snore like an overfed, alcoholic wildebeest, which ALWAYS ends up causing problems), it presents something of a challenge with regard to this blog. Because I may have just lost one of my top-three recurring topics.
Here's why. Last Friday, as I sat at a very nice steakhouse with the hedge-fund analyst in question (and for whom I am going to have to think of some kind of appropriate alias), I realized it would be AWFULLY hypocritical of me to go on blatantly insulting the men of the finance world if I was going to turn right around and let one of them buy me a thick, heavily marbled steak and an icy platter of fresh oysters. That just won't do. Plus, while *one* kindhearted hedge-fund analyst is not enough to redeem the marching troops of the entire finance industry, I'd hate to think he thinks he's included when I dismiss the lot of them as vampires who suck the very lifeblood from middle-class American homes and use it to drive up prices on midtown condos.
So I'm going to have to find a new variety of asshat to pick on when I need a quick shorthand for "pigheaded syphillitic canker on society." If not an I-banker, what?
I mean, hey, it's hard to criticize doctors for making money (and, knowing quite a few, they don't really make all that much, especially when you compare them to those greedy, gobbling I-ban....oh, WAIT. Crap!). See? See how hard this is?
Any ideas about who should receive the brunt of my vitriol from here out will be deeply appreciated.
1) I was on the street, and someone catcalled me, harassed me, grabbed a tit, etc. These people are are rude, they ruin my day, and just once, I want to kick one of them in the crotch.
2) I grew up in the corn fields of South Dakota. Boy howdy is New York different!
3) Young investment bankers are pigheaded syphillitic cankers on society, and while they must be tolerated for career purposes, they are to be avoided socially at all costs.
So imagine my consternation now that I find myself happily ensconced in a relationship with none other than a hedge-fund analyst! Admittedly, hedge funds are not investment banks, but they do fall squarely within the realm of opportunistic finance. I imagine Life is having a pretty good laugh at me and my preconceived notions now.
While the relationship has been blissfully problem-free thus far (disregarding of course my tendency to snore like an overfed, alcoholic wildebeest, which ALWAYS ends up causing problems), it presents something of a challenge with regard to this blog. Because I may have just lost one of my top-three recurring topics.
Here's why. Last Friday, as I sat at a very nice steakhouse with the hedge-fund analyst in question (and for whom I am going to have to think of some kind of appropriate alias), I realized it would be AWFULLY hypocritical of me to go on blatantly insulting the men of the finance world if I was going to turn right around and let one of them buy me a thick, heavily marbled steak and an icy platter of fresh oysters. That just won't do. Plus, while *one* kindhearted hedge-fund analyst is not enough to redeem the marching troops of the entire finance industry, I'd hate to think he thinks he's included when I dismiss the lot of them as vampires who suck the very lifeblood from middle-class American homes and use it to drive up prices on midtown condos.
So I'm going to have to find a new variety of asshat to pick on when I need a quick shorthand for "pigheaded syphillitic canker on society." If not an I-banker, what?
I mean, hey, it's hard to criticize doctors for making money (and, knowing quite a few, they don't really make all that much, especially when you compare them to those greedy, gobbling I-ban....oh, WAIT. Crap!). See? See how hard this is?
Any ideas about who should receive the brunt of my vitriol from here out will be deeply appreciated.
posted by Had To Move at 3:36 PM
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