How humorous is it that in light of the recent posts and controversy this settling subject has stirred up, my mom comments to ask what I bought at Neiman's? The apple falls very close, my friends. I have one more point with this whole not settling thing though—it seems highly probable that those of us who don't settle will end up alone. And I think that must be weighed against everything else I suppose. I've sort of made my peace with this because I am the type of person who just can't even kiss or be really intimate with someone I'm not gaga over. Hence my near celibacy and my tendency not to date a lot. Different city, same issues it would seem.

settlement issues

Okay, so we're not in Gaza therefore the issue of settlements is a litttle less grave, but I think this post has certainly stirred up some strong emotions. In regards to the anony-commenters, a couple of points. When I proclaim that I won't settle for anything less than ideal, I am most certainly NOT referring to a "good on paper" brand of quality. I'm absolutely not on the hunt—nor do I advocate others to be—for a wealthy, Ivy League provider. I have learned through experience that good on paper rarely translates to good in the flesh. By not settling, I mean not settling for anything less than nice, sweet, loyal, devoted, funny, kindhearted, generous, moral and down-to-earth. Money, alma mater, car brand, height and hotness have very little to do with what or whom I am looking for. Any of my friends will attest to the fact that I am the last one to date someone simply because they take me to nice places. If I want a dinner at Daniel—or now, I suppose, Joe's Stone Crab—I'll buy it myself. Period. So please do not misinterpret me. When I refer to my friends who are settlling, what I mean, precisely, is this. They are with men who do one or more of the following: play around, belittle them, tell them they are fat, treat them like housekeepers, disrespect them or fail to recognize their beauty, strength or character.

I've said it before and I'll most likely have to shout it from the mountaintops until the day of my demise: just because I like nice things and shopping, does not mean I am without character, morality, integrity or intelligence. If anything, that is my message inherent in this blog. I am a firm, FIRM believer in a woman providing for herself. I have become accustomed to a certain lifestyle, therefore I plan on keeping myself in the manner to which I've become accustomed. Hence the change of careers to a more lucrative field. When I hear women discuss men in terms of their bank accounts or wallet size or car, I shudder, because, let me tell you, these things mean almost nothing at the end of the day. Again, I am wasting too much time here, I must go paint.

The Neiman's outlet, I fear, has turned into my Ben & Jerry's. Yes, it's a lot less caloric, but a lot more expensive. This is my last week before rejoining the working world again. After a nearly year-long hiatus from such a mileu, it should be interesting.

Last night while out at a local haunt, I ran into a guy I met at a society thing in NY way back in September, so, it seems, the world is just as small down here as up there. He lives two buildings away from me here. Weird. I did two very foolish things today, my jaunt to Neiman's notwithstanding—hey, cut a girl some slack they were having a handbag and shoe "event," I'm supposed to say no to that?—neither of which I feel comfortable disclosing here, but the perpetual question is: Why, oh why, does romance make such fools out of us, no matter the age or circumstance? WHY???????? I'm chalking today's behavior up to the paint fumes I've been inhaling all day.