And Google’s transcription: Hmm. Ohh and I want to know what you’re not answering your phone call. I can go yen. Hey, hey, we love you hey okay. Yeah it. Hey, Long earn hey ring hang. Hey. Ha. Ha. Ha. Hey, I don’t know where they We’re in ha ha. I have hey. Hey, We’re a. I will. I love you hey and who I pool. O. O, hey. You have to. Hello, I man, hey hello, hey man, you should.

Just noticed I could cross two items off my wishlist— I toured the Yuengling Factory in Pottsville and I got hardwood floors in my parlor and dining room. Yeah, these things were accomplished awhile ago but I plum forgot to cross them off the list.

Thinking about it, I do think I need to go through and update the list. There’s certain things that are missing… things that I am aiming for currently that weren’t in my thoughts when I first compiled the list. Gosh has my life changed since I made up that list.

Yesterday was the Newtown Original Brewfest. I went with Lisa and her friend Christina and we met up with my two favorite German teachers. One had been my German teacher back in 1989. The other is the older brother of an old schoolmate of mine. I also met a Colombian man named Julian. I do love beerfests. I love how it starts off all stuffy yet by the end, everyone is hugging each other, taking insane pictures and dancing in that inimitable, white, drunk way.

I am trying to enjoy October. It’s my favorite month and yet it just screams past me. That might be why I agreed to go for a ride in an ex’s convertible and walk with him in Tyler. No worries people… it wasn’t PB. PB has seemingly ceased to exist. The only thing that remains is an occasional impersonal email about upcoming technology workshops and the odd Facebook status message. Gosh has my life changed.

The nice thing is I’ve started speaking German again. Horribly.

I went to spin class yesterday. Tonight I went to Zumba. I need to keep this exercise up. It’s the right thing to do… for the body but especially the mind.

I read an interesting article, All the Single Ladies. Let’s say it hit close to home. Here’s a few of my favorite parts:

But what transpired next lay well beyond the powers of everybody’s imagination: as women have climbed ever higher, men have been falling behind. We’ve arrived at the top of the staircase, finally ready to start our lives, only to discover a cavernous room at the tail end of a party, most of the men gone already, some having never shown up—and those who remain are leering by the cheese table, or are, you know, the ones you don’t want to go out with.

But while the rise of women has been good for everyone, the decline of males has obviously been bad news for men—and bad news for marriage. For all the changes the institution has undergone, American women as a whole have never been confronted with such a radically shrinking pool of what are traditionally considered to be “marriageable” men—those who are better educated and earn more than they do. So women are now contending with what we might call the new scarcity. Even as women have seen their range of options broaden in recent years—for instance, expanding the kind of men it’s culturally acceptable to be with, and making it okay not to marry at all—the new scarcity disrupts what economists call the “marriage market” in a way that in fact narrows the available choices, making a good man harder to find than ever. At the rate things are going, the next generation’s pool of good men will be significantly smaller. What does this portend for the future of the American family?

There are millions of women who live alone in America. Some of them are widows. Some of them are divorced and between connections, some of them are odd, loners who prefer to keep their habits undisturbed.

When I embarked on my own sojourn as a single woman in New York City—talk about a timeworn cliché!—it wasn’t dating I was after. I was seeking something more vague and, in my mind, more noble, having to do with finding my own way, and independence. And I found all that. Early on, I sometimes ached, watching so many friends pair off—and without a doubt there has been loneliness. At times I’ve envied my married friends for being able to rely on a spouse to help make difficult decisions, or even just to carry the bills for a couple of months. And yet I’m perhaps inordinately proud that I’ve never depended on anyone to pay my way (today that strikes me as a quaint achievement, but there you have it). Once, when my father consoled me, with the best of intentions, for being so unlucky in love, I bristled. I’d gotten to know so many interesting men, and experienced so much. Wasn’t that a form of luck?

All of which is to say that the single woman is very rarely seen for who she is—whatever that might be—by others, or even by the single woman herself, so thoroughly do most of us internalize the stigmas that surround our status.