“The mistake that straight people made,” Savage told me, “was imposing the monogamous expectation on men. Men were never expected to be monogamous. Men had concubines, mistresses and access to prostitutes, until everybody decided marriage had to be egalitar­ian and fairsey.” In the feminist revolution, rather than extending to women “the same latitude and license and pressure-release valve that men had always enjoyed,” we extended to men the confines women had always endured. “And it’s been a disaster for marriage.”

Dan Savage on the Virtues of Infidelity - NYTimes.com (via felixsalmon)

Probably the best article I’ve ever read examining the different facets of commitment. Our lives are not “one size fits all”, so neither should our relationships subscribe to that theory.

I don’t know where exactly I stand on monogamy vs. nonmonogamy, but Dan Savage’s views on total honesty within a relationship are something I DO agree with.

Definitely worth a read.

(via rickwebb)

mrgn:

Fun with Aubrey at foursquare SF’s housewarming bash. I learned a lot about event planning from tonight—about half of it from a two-minute conversation with her!

Loved last night’s Foursquare party - Morgan KILLED it!! Such a fun night…

Unsettled

I recently went home to visit my family, and as with most visits, the topic of my relationship status came up. Actually, that’s not fair; the topic of my SINGLE relationship status (and the question as to why) was broached a minimum of, say, one hundred and forty six times. Not too shabby for a three-day visit. I don’t mind discussing this (as you’re about to very clearly see), but it’s that look of disdain, nay, pity that I get in response to me saying that yes, I’m single and yes, I do want to get married some day and of course I do want to have children and I nod and smile while they pat my shoulder and tell me that there’s someone out there for me after all. 

I agree. I think there is; there’s probably a few people out there for me. I’m just not currently dating them nor engaged to them nor trying to procreate with them, the latter which has somehow become a successful alternative to my Mom’s newest suggestion, freezing my eggs. Yes, the fact that a thirty-four year old woman is single - by choice or by chance - shows me that not much has really changed over the years and that ‘spinster’ may be muttered when I leave the room. 

But the one question that I can never succinctly answer, that also gets asked, is WHY am I single? “How is that possible?” they ask (because they’re family and they’re kind and they see the good parts of me and ignore that parts that repeatedly like to date emotionally unavailable foreigners.) I never have an answer for them, because, well, I DON’T know why I’m single. I can tell you why I’m not dating a certain person or why I broke up with someone who was nothing but kind to me. I can resolutely say that I’ve been in love approximately 1.5 times (the fraction being from high school because, yeah, that doesn’t count and it was wholly unrequited; I’ll call it infatuation disguised as love). But in thinking about it - because I do, and because marriage or companionship and children ARE something I want in my future, without doubt or question - all I’ve come to is the fact that I’ve not yet found what I’m looking for. Be it circumstances or timing or the person - and I think yes, it’s all three of those - it’s not been right. Frankly, nobody has loved the shit out of me, and I refuse to settle for less.

Ten years ago, I may have. And I look back at that person and am SO GLAD I DID NOT, even if the left side of my bed is often empty. I can’t imagine 24 year-old me having the confidence or knowledge or battle wounds that I do today, those very experiences that have put me in the situation where I know I won’t settle. I think back then, the fear of being alone - which, that’s not to say doesn’t exist - would have been too potentially paralyzing that I would have turned a blind eye to the guy that occasionally would vanish for days, whose phone he would grab whenever it rang, who had photos of a girl I didn’t know on his camera. The me back then just wanted to be in a relationship, for whatever it offered, never mind what it didn’t. Thank God that girl has grown up and had her heart broken a few times.

What I’ve found through the years is that I went from a place wanting so badly to be in a relationship, to be part of something, to cling on to that hope that this next person may be MY next person, that I’d lose sight of why I actually wanted to be part of a couple in the first place. I think part of it was insecurity, looking for that whole bullshit Jerry McGuire “You complete me” person (damn you, Tom Cruise) that I ignored what a relationship actually offered. Now? Well, I think I’d love to meet someone phenomenal so I had a partner in crime. Someone who I could support in their quest for whatever the hell they wanted to do, be it climb Mt. Kilamanjaro or fix the garbage disposal. Someone who knows that yes, I tend to overplan and know exactly what I’m going to be doing on a random day in August but I like nothing more than to have an unplanned, spontaneous weekend and play hooky from real life for a while. I’d like a partner, in the true sense of the word.

That’s not to contradict the need for chemistry; that is undeniably a must-have, and I believe it’s not something you can force. It’s either there, or it’s not. I’ve been absolutely floored by it in the past; I met someone and before he even turned around, as soon as I merely heard his voice, I realized I was a goner. But chemistry alone is not enough, though lo, I’ve tried…makes for some great stories next time you play “I’ve Never…” but eventually there needs to be more. The person I fell in love with had both; the chemistry was omnipresent but the reason I loved him was because I met someone who I could see being my husband. I watched him around children, and saw him ‘parent’ in a way that was compatible with my views. And yet, it still wasn’t enough, because of circumstances and timing and us figuratively (and literally) being in two different places. Tragic, perhaps, but I think I’m one step closer to finding what I’ve been looking for. 

So the recipe for love? I’d say it’s equal parts timing, mutual attraction, and life compatibility. Add a good story as to how you met and BAM. There ya have it. Hearts carved into tree trunks and all that jazz.

But what do I know? I’m just a single girl, bless my heart. One who is, at least for the time being, happily, unapologetically, unsettled.

jayparkinsonmd: You’ll get medical care, but you’ll have to pay your own hard-earned money for service… Buddy, my 5 year old never-been-sick dog, who likes swimming and rabbits, was on death’s door on Tuesday morning. He’d had diarrhea for a few days and then stopped eating and drinking. His eyes were so red they were almost bloody. His temperature was 105. He couldn’t walk.  I was out of town in Houston. Kiley, who watches Buddy when I’m traveling, called me crying (she loves him so much). I told her to take him to the vet. She did. As I was heading to the airport to come back to NYC, the vet called and told me that Buddy was very, very sick and needed to go to the ER. He thought Buddy looked septic (an overwhelming bacterial blood infection) and he was very worried. Kiley rushed him to the dog ER in Cobble Hill. She called just a few minutes before my plane took off. She said they estimated a likely low end cost and a high end cost for Buddy’s care. At the low end, it was going to be $2200 for 3 nights of hospitalization, IV fluids, antibiotics, and everything else they needed to do. At the high end, it was estimated to cost $3400. They needed my card to guarantee at least the low end cost of his care. So my card was charged $2200. Buddy made a fairly remarkable turnaround. His diagnosis: Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, a tick-borne infection that sometimes causes a very quick demise with systemic vasculitis. I have no idea how he got a tick infected with Rickettsia rickettsii, he hasn’t been outside of Brooklyn for two months and I’ve never found a tick on him in his life. His blood vessels all over his body were wildly inflamed. Poor guy. He was super sick, miserable, and in massive pain. But throughout the entire experience, the vet called me with every new detail keeping me up to date on every new development from blood tests to vitals to changes in his clinical appearance.  The entire relationship between me and the vet was based on communication and customer service.  At the end, the bill was itemized and totaled $1800. I got a refund of $400. The difference between dog care and human care is: I’m the customer. I’m paying out of my own pocket for care, I’m paying for service, and I could just as easily go somewhere else next time Buddy needs good care. But, of course, the next time Buddy gets sick, I know that VERG will take super good care of Buddy and make sure they’re giving me the best service imaginable.  Someone (update: it was blue_beetle) once said “if you’re not paying for something, you’re not the customer; you’re the product being sold.” This is the future of medical care in America. Sure, we’ll get access to some care, but we’ll have to pay for attentive service, communication, meaningful relationships, and an overall great experience. There will soon be a widening gap between two American healthcare experiences: The insurance company is the customer. This will be the dominant experience for most people because service, communication, and relationships will be too expensive. Insurance companies will pay the bare minimum to ensure you are one of the 40 patients your doctor will see that day. This is unsafe and inhumane. You are the customer. This will be the ideal experience and will be expensive. You’ll have insurance, but you’ll also pay your own hard-earned cash for communication and customer service. You’ll be one of 10-15 patients your doctor sees that day. But you’ll also have a doctor that personally knows you and cares for you. My entire career has been based on inspiring a better patient experience from my first practice to Hello Health, and to my latest projects I’ll be talking about soon. From the very beginning, I’ve fought to put the patient at the center of the experience and have built a few companies making sure this happened. But it’s just so sad that often times dogs get better service than humans in America. Buddy is fortunate—he’s got an owner who can afford good care. But shouldn’t we all be able to afford good care? We spend almost $3 trillion a year on medical care. Where’s the value we’re getting from all this money? Shouldn’t we demand better? Jay again hits home why our healthcare system is so messed up. Also, I am SOOOO relieved that Buddy - only the second best dog alive - is ok. I do love that pup.

jayparkinsonmd:

You’ll get medical care, but you’ll have to pay your own hard-earned money for service…

Buddy, my 5 year old never-been-sick dog, who likes swimming and rabbits, was on death’s door on Tuesday morning. He’d had diarrhea for a few days and then stopped eating and drinking. His eyes were so red they were almost bloody. His temperature was 105. He couldn’t walk. 

I was out of town in Houston. Kiley, who watches Buddy when I’m traveling, called me crying (she loves him so much). I told her to take him to the vet. She did. As I was heading to the airport to come back to NYC, the vet called and told me that Buddy was very, very sick and needed to go to the ER. He thought Buddy looked septic (an overwhelming bacterial blood infection) and he was very worried. Kiley rushed him to the dog ER in Cobble Hill. She called just a few minutes before my plane took off. She said they estimated a likely low end cost and a high end cost for Buddy’s care. At the low end, it was going to be $2200 for 3 nights of hospitalization, IV fluids, antibiotics, and everything else they needed to do. At the high end, it was estimated to cost $3400. They needed my card to guarantee at least the low end cost of his care. So my card was charged $2200.

Buddy made a fairly remarkable turnaround. His diagnosis: Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, a tick-borne infection that sometimes causes a very quick demise with systemic vasculitis. I have no idea how he got a tick infected with Rickettsia rickettsii, he hasn’t been outside of Brooklyn for two months and I’ve never found a tick on him in his life. His blood vessels all over his body were wildly inflamed. Poor guy. He was super sick, miserable, and in massive pain.

But throughout the entire experience, the vet called me with every new detail keeping me up to date on every new development from blood tests to vitals to changes in his clinical appearance. 

The entire relationship between me and the vet was based on communication and customer service. 

At the end, the bill was itemized and totaled $1800. I got a refund of $400.

The difference between dog care and human care is:

I’m the customer.

I’m paying out of my own pocket for care, I’m paying for service, and I could just as easily go somewhere else next time Buddy needs good care. But, of course, the next time Buddy gets sick, I know that VERG will take super good care of Buddy and make sure they’re giving me the best service imaginable. 

Someone (update: it was blue_beetle) once said “if you’re not paying for something, you’re not the customer; you’re the product being sold.”

This is the future of medical care in America. Sure, we’ll get access to some care, but we’ll have to pay for attentive service, communication, meaningful relationships, and an overall great experience. There will soon be a widening gap between two American healthcare experiences:

  • The insurance company is the customer. This will be the dominant experience for most people because service, communication, and relationships will be too expensive. Insurance companies will pay the bare minimum to ensure you are one of the 40 patients your doctor will see that day. This is unsafe and inhumane.
  • You are the customer. This will be the ideal experience and will be expensive. You’ll have insurance, but you’ll also pay your own hard-earned cash for communication and customer service. You’ll be one of 10-15 patients your doctor sees that day. But you’ll also have a doctor that personally knows you and cares for you.

My entire career has been based on inspiring a better patient experience from my first practice to Hello Health, and to my latest projects I’ll be talking about soon. From the very beginning, I’ve fought to put the patient at the center of the experience and have built a few companies making sure this happened.

But it’s just so sad that often times dogs get better service than humans in America. Buddy is fortunate—he’s got an owner who can afford good care. But shouldn’t we all be able to afford good care? We spend almost $3 trillion a year on medical care. Where’s the value we’re getting from all this money? Shouldn’t we demand better?

Jay again hits home why our healthcare system is so messed up. Also, I am SOOOO relieved that Buddy - only the second best dog alive - is ok. I do love that pup.

Wondering how many more years it will take for me to not know what I did on this day two years ago. May never fully get over it, but can move on.

Wondering how many more years it will take for me to not know what I did on this day two years ago. May never fully get over it, but can move on.