Not sure what it is, but people seem to either love me or hate me. No one is ever indifferent when meeting me. Let me clarify this statement. Men love me. Yeay! Women hate me. Boo!
So the women I am friends with are truly amazing. They are beautiful, smart, funny, clever, successful, ambitious, creative. In a word, they are Do-ers. As opposed to all the Don'ts.
I happened upon a blog that I can't stop reading. And watching. And wondering. Where have you been all my life, Jen?
Well, I found you now and I'm not letting go. Not again. This is love. I mean it this time.
The only way I'll let go is if you pry my Verizon Aircard out of my cold, dead hands. I have rights, people. And I'm right about this one. This here is a damned good woman.
Read her blog: Jen Is Famous. She is hilarious. Even her mother gets in on the act.
Jen is a comedian, a blogger, and a spelling bee impresario. Seriously, how can we not fall in love with a woman who creates an adult spelling bee competition and then calls herself an impresario for this fantastical feat?
My favorite parts are her travels to the Middle East to entertain the troops. As a career Navy Brat and former Navy Reservist, I commend you Jen. You are part of what makes America so great. The bigger part of America's greatness are those of us who actually suit up for sit-ups and show up to serve. But hey, really, you're the best.
Welcome, Jen. Granted, this solo reception is a lot like one hand clapping. (Makes it impossible for me to open that blasted bottle and take my meds....) I'm really glad I found you. God bless America. And God bless blogs.
Back By Popular Demand: AJC Editorial "Using Emotion as Ammunition"
Feminism rewards women who run roughshod over men
Alessandra Eakin - For the Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Monday, December 30, 2002
It's about time someone said it: Women are idiots.
I suspect men have known this for a long time and, in their better interest, have kept quiet about it. However, in the face of overwhelming evidence, as a woman, I must conclude that "sistas" all are indeed sniveling, simpering imps.
Feminism, go home. Go back to the bedrooms and kitchens where at least for generations you served a purpose. Only there can you achieve the level of mediocrity not remotely evidenced in boardrooms and cubicles since your forcible entry into the office four decades ago.
The Battle of the Sexes has yielded a simmering stalemate, though men concede women have long won the war. The men quit fighting, stopped trying, and no longer care to please their women because they know they can't. Men have lost plenty. They are no longer significant in the estimation of women.
Here's an example of what happens today. At my job once, there was a team-building activity companywide. Each person was assigned a task only they could do. As each person performed his or her role, the team accomplished its goal. Each team, when done performing its task, was to integrate its piece with another team. Each team contributed to the building of a whole unit, which represented cooperation among all departments within a company.
Instead of achieving corporate nirvana, a shameful quagmire resulted. In an instant, a dozen shrill, power-hungry women converged upon a table and started screaming at subordinates to follow their spontaneous, ill-prepared orders. They hijacked the plan, threw out the rules and imposed a cult of personality where the one who shouted the loudest and the meanest and the most often was the winner. A periphery of impotent employees, mostly men, ringed the dominant table of blond ambition.
How did this happen? When did men become trivial? What makes women think they are at all important? Why are the rational-minded marginalized and not celebrated instead?
The balance of power has shifted so dramatically that women have developed a delusional sense of self-worth. Feminism promised women they could be anything they wanted to be without offering a constructive way to achieve greatness. Initiative, ambition, education, dedication became pitiful ploys in contrast to the effectiveness of exhibiting emotions.
Employing what I call "emotional extortion" offers immediate gratification. Pouting over hurt feelings, throwing temper tantrums and hurling accusations of meanness gets you what you want. Why work hard and try often when a crying jag swiftly gets you what you want? Why risk failure when fearful employers hand you the vestiges of victory?
Simply put, women have run amok. Men are losing their ground as they endure blatant abuse by women day after day, decade after decade. Men are wonderful beings, worthy of much praise and appreciation. I am ready for the Man Movement to begin. Somebody please, stop these women before they ruin our lives. I need a man to save me from the wreckage of stupid women.
Alessandra Eakin - For the Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Monday, December 30, 2002
It's about time someone said it: Women are idiots.
I suspect men have known this for a long time and, in their better interest, have kept quiet about it. However, in the face of overwhelming evidence, as a woman, I must conclude that "sistas" all are indeed sniveling, simpering imps.
Feminism, go home. Go back to the bedrooms and kitchens where at least for generations you served a purpose. Only there can you achieve the level of mediocrity not remotely evidenced in boardrooms and cubicles since your forcible entry into the office four decades ago.
The Battle of the Sexes has yielded a simmering stalemate, though men concede women have long won the war. The men quit fighting, stopped trying, and no longer care to please their women because they know they can't. Men have lost plenty. They are no longer significant in the estimation of women.
Here's an example of what happens today. At my job once, there was a team-building activity companywide. Each person was assigned a task only they could do. As each person performed his or her role, the team accomplished its goal. Each team, when done performing its task, was to integrate its piece with another team. Each team contributed to the building of a whole unit, which represented cooperation among all departments within a company.
Instead of achieving corporate nirvana, a shameful quagmire resulted. In an instant, a dozen shrill, power-hungry women converged upon a table and started screaming at subordinates to follow their spontaneous, ill-prepared orders. They hijacked the plan, threw out the rules and imposed a cult of personality where the one who shouted the loudest and the meanest and the most often was the winner. A periphery of impotent employees, mostly men, ringed the dominant table of blond ambition.
How did this happen? When did men become trivial? What makes women think they are at all important? Why are the rational-minded marginalized and not celebrated instead?
The balance of power has shifted so dramatically that women have developed a delusional sense of self-worth. Feminism promised women they could be anything they wanted to be without offering a constructive way to achieve greatness. Initiative, ambition, education, dedication became pitiful ploys in contrast to the effectiveness of exhibiting emotions.
Employing what I call "emotional extortion" offers immediate gratification. Pouting over hurt feelings, throwing temper tantrums and hurling accusations of meanness gets you what you want. Why work hard and try often when a crying jag swiftly gets you what you want? Why risk failure when fearful employers hand you the vestiges of victory?
Simply put, women have run amok. Men are losing their ground as they endure blatant abuse by women day after day, decade after decade. Men are wonderful beings, worthy of much praise and appreciation. I am ready for the Man Movement to begin. Somebody please, stop these women before they ruin our lives. I need a man to save me from the wreckage of stupid women.
Atlanta City Government: Not Investment Grade
I owned a condo in Buckhead for 7 years. It was on the market for 5 of the last 7 years. This is when our beloved Buckhead became the reviled Buckhood.
Condo owners are first time home buyers who live where they play. High income single professionals pay for a pristine playground. When your playground succumbs to gang-style gunfire, it is a ghetto instead.
I was married for 2 eternal years. We lived in my husband's house in the suburbs. When I divorced, I gave him his house back and moved immediately back intown.
On the advice of my best friend Joe and my parents, I decided to rent an apartment rather than buy a house. I rent for two very good reasons.
1) I started my third business and needed to reserve capital for its incessant demands instead of a house with all its expenses.
2) The real estate market would only plunge deeper, so waiting to "buy when there is blood in the streets and sell at the sound of trumpets" became my strategy.
Now I have an inkling to buy again. The question used to be where do I want to live? Buckhead, Midtown, Brookhaven - all neighborhoods in Atlanta to my liking.
Now my existential angst extends beyond which intown enclave to reside in to living in the city itself. Not just a matter of lifestyle, but about life itself. I ask myself not just where I want to live, but how I want to live.
In reading Warrren Buffett's brilliant biography The Snowball, I look at every purchase as a business issuing shares of stocks for a part of its ownership. For example, I own my own business. Because I alone own all 1000 of its shares, it is privately held. If I owned 500 shares, but the other 500 shares are owned by other people, the business would still be privately owned but not just by me.
However, if any of the shares were available for the public to buy, it would be a publicly traded company. Its share price would first be determined against its IPO - Initial Public Offering. The valuation sets the price per share, but so does public sentiment about the company.
Earnings determines the value of each share. If there were more debts than profits, its value low; its earnings more than its expenses, its value high. The volume of people buying or selling the stock also impacts the share price, raising it with belief in success or lowering it with fear of failure.
I see buying a home as the same thing as buying ownership of the resident's city "stock" price. Buying and holding stocks seems so passe these days of rampant hysteria and leadership betrayal. However, a 30-year fixed mortgage is the ultimate in buying and holding stock. Only this time, its stock ownership is the city itself.
I ask myself, would I "buy and hold" stock in the City of Atlanta if it were a business? Would I buy shares of its business by my belief in its management team, the City Council? Is my long-term view of the State of Georgia bullish in its growth or bearish in its ineptitude?
Could I sell my stock at a profit as others increase their faith in the city and state governance? Or would my stock shares tumble in tandem with my home price? Long term, do I believe Atlanta will earn me a profit or a loss?
I believe in the State of Georgia much more than I do City of Atlanta. The difference between city and state is its cultural values. A "Red State" that espouses conservative values is investment grade to me specifically, and to business in general. Meanwhile, Atlanta promotes a looping rap video, promoting style over substance in all matters of business.
I'll keep putting money into my own business. I believe in myself, owning two other successful businesses. I am not a risk. I am an investment.
As for City of Atlanta, that's risky. So I rent. Yes, I'm renewing my lease. And enjoy my skyline view.
Condo owners are first time home buyers who live where they play. High income single professionals pay for a pristine playground. When your playground succumbs to gang-style gunfire, it is a ghetto instead.
I was married for 2 eternal years. We lived in my husband's house in the suburbs. When I divorced, I gave him his house back and moved immediately back intown.
On the advice of my best friend Joe and my parents, I decided to rent an apartment rather than buy a house. I rent for two very good reasons.
1) I started my third business and needed to reserve capital for its incessant demands instead of a house with all its expenses.
2) The real estate market would only plunge deeper, so waiting to "buy when there is blood in the streets and sell at the sound of trumpets" became my strategy.
Now I have an inkling to buy again. The question used to be where do I want to live? Buckhead, Midtown, Brookhaven - all neighborhoods in Atlanta to my liking.
Now my existential angst extends beyond which intown enclave to reside in to living in the city itself. Not just a matter of lifestyle, but about life itself. I ask myself not just where I want to live, but how I want to live.
In reading Warrren Buffett's brilliant biography The Snowball, I look at every purchase as a business issuing shares of stocks for a part of its ownership. For example, I own my own business. Because I alone own all 1000 of its shares, it is privately held. If I owned 500 shares, but the other 500 shares are owned by other people, the business would still be privately owned but not just by me.
However, if any of the shares were available for the public to buy, it would be a publicly traded company. Its share price would first be determined against its IPO - Initial Public Offering. The valuation sets the price per share, but so does public sentiment about the company.
Earnings determines the value of each share. If there were more debts than profits, its value low; its earnings more than its expenses, its value high. The volume of people buying or selling the stock also impacts the share price, raising it with belief in success or lowering it with fear of failure.
I see buying a home as the same thing as buying ownership of the resident's city "stock" price. Buying and holding stocks seems so passe these days of rampant hysteria and leadership betrayal. However, a 30-year fixed mortgage is the ultimate in buying and holding stock. Only this time, its stock ownership is the city itself.
I ask myself, would I "buy and hold" stock in the City of Atlanta if it were a business? Would I buy shares of its business by my belief in its management team, the City Council? Is my long-term view of the State of Georgia bullish in its growth or bearish in its ineptitude?
Could I sell my stock at a profit as others increase their faith in the city and state governance? Or would my stock shares tumble in tandem with my home price? Long term, do I believe Atlanta will earn me a profit or a loss?
I believe in the State of Georgia much more than I do City of Atlanta. The difference between city and state is its cultural values. A "Red State" that espouses conservative values is investment grade to me specifically, and to business in general. Meanwhile, Atlanta promotes a looping rap video, promoting style over substance in all matters of business.
I'll keep putting money into my own business. I believe in myself, owning two other successful businesses. I am not a risk. I am an investment.
As for City of Atlanta, that's risky. So I rent. Yes, I'm renewing my lease. And enjoy my skyline view.
Atlanta Screwed Up Its Condo Market
I am a city mouse. Always have been. Always will be.
Atlanta is a great city to live in, but we got problems living intown. Big problems. The biggest one is in our rotten housing options for condominiums.
Atlanta condo builders are stupid. Very stupid. They will pay for their stupidity by all the unsold inventory sitting on the market. But we also pay as people who want to live in condos but can't for having no good options.
I know of no exception to this. Every new high rise condominium has the same floor plan, even for its biggest units. The two bedroom/two bathroom roommate plan with a kitchen and living room in the middle. There is everything wrong with this 2/2 Plan for everyone above the age of 22.
Who the 2/2 Succeeds With: Single Young Professionals
Atlanta is a great city to live in, but we got problems living intown. Big problems. The biggest one is in our rotten housing options for condominiums.
Atlanta condo builders are stupid. Very stupid. They will pay for their stupidity by all the unsold inventory sitting on the market. But we also pay as people who want to live in condos but can't for having no good options.
I know of no exception to this. Every new high rise condominium has the same floor plan, even for its biggest units. The two bedroom/two bathroom roommate plan with a kitchen and living room in the middle. There is everything wrong with this 2/2 Plan for everyone above the age of 22.
Who the 2/2 Succeeds With: Single Young Professionals
- It appeals only people who want roommates with relative privacy on either end of the unit.
- It works only for people who want a bedroom of their own and a dedicated office.
- It perpetuates a single person's limited perspective by having great views with no room for growth.
- It creates a glut of condo space once all the available buyers of single professionals are tapped out of money or paired off with roommates.
Who the 2/2 Fails With: Everyone Else Who Needs More Than 2 Bedrooms
Atlanta fancies itself an international city. This is as misguided as Cheeseheads from Wisconsin wearing Venizia! gondola hats in Venice as authentic tourism.
Atlanta is a small town grown tall and wide, that's all. If we were an international city, we would have city-living available to all who want it. What we have now is not by design, but by default.
We should replicate the McMansions of our vast suburbs in the sky. Why not? Land here is cheap, especially compared to cities like New York, D.C., Los Angeles, and Chicago. Space is even cheaper!
We should have flats with comparable living space as our suburban homes. People want condos on one floor that's between 2000 to 5000 square feet per unit. What's the limit here, exactly? Other than imagination.
Plenty of folks prefer to live intown but cannot. Even if they want to downsize, there's no equivalent condo space that can accommodate them and all their stuff. Not when you have a tiny 2/2 with no room for guests and life's other overflow.
If we focused on only one major design flaw that shows how unlivable condos are for older professionals, it would be balconies. Suburban homes have huge decks that accommodate 6-chair tables, 2 chaise lounges, a bison-sized grill, and plenty of potted plants. Add a dog barking at butterflies to complete the idyllic image of domestic bliss.
Most high-rise condos do not have balconies. Floor-to-ceiling windows are not the same thing because there is no outdoor space. Especially when you cannot even open the windows to smell the spring air.
When there are balconies, they cannot even fit a 4-chair table. Add to the precarious wire railings with no overhang to its dismal design. That feature is liability, not livability.
There is no appeal to condos for folks who have simply lived better than rats in a Skinner Box.
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