Sunday, on our way home from a trip to upstate New York, my husband and I stopped at a Dunkin Donuts. When we came back out with our coffee, there was a car parked a few spaces down from ours. It had one of those little flatbed trailers attached to the back. And lying on the trailer were two dead deer, gutted and trussed for travel. They were having their picture taken by a passing mom and her 14-year-old son, who were carefully framing the shots on their cellphones.
I’m not sure why they bothered. It’s not like there’s a dearth of dead deer around these parts. On our trip to New York and back, I must have seen several hundred dead deer — lying beside the road, lying on the road, lying a hundred yards back from the road, with their little deer limbs twisted and contorted in a gymnast’s baedeker of positioning. There were deer on their backs, on their sides, on their bellies. There were deer who seemed to be sitting up, human-like, by the roadside, watching the passing cars patiently, unblinkingly.
The other day after work, I was waiting for the garage attendant to bring down my car. I was standing alongside a well-dressed, dapper-looking man about age 60. As his car — a much more expensive one than my ancient Honda — came rolling down the ramp, mine followed close behind. The attendants lined the cars up beside us and got out, holding the doors for us. The gentleman beside me paused, cleared his throat, coughed up a huge phlegm-ball onto the sidewalk at my feet, and proceeded to get in his car.
Yo, dude. You are so, so gross.
So you’re going shopping for a donor egg. What traits of the donor would be most important to you?
A new study in the Journal of Women’s Health reveals some fascinating changes in trends among those using donor eggs to become pregnant. The researchers, from the Mt. Sinai School of Medicine, studied which donor characteristics more than 400 would-become-moms at the Reproductive Medical Associates of New York fertility clinic said mattered most to them.
Our baby boomer reporter chats women’s rights and labels with Layla Jones, 21, a Web content producer, and Janan McCormick, 23, a nurse.
PM: Do you consider yourself a feminist?
Layla: I was just talking to a friend about this. We were like, you know, I don’t feel like a feminist per se. And then we’re like, why not? We just want equality for everybody; we don’t want to have to label ourselves. But then people get mad and say, “What do you mean you’re not feminists? Do you even know what feminism is?” And I’m like, honestly, I’m not sure, but I feel like I do.
Janan: I feel like feminism is a word that’s like love in the English language. You know how in other languages there are all these different types of words for love, like friendship and family love and romantic love? I feel like feminism has become a word that means something different to everybody. Read more »
I had the unusual experience this week of feeling sorry for a very chic, very thin Frenchwoman. That would be Fleur Pellerin, France’s minister of culture, who was asked in a television interview to name her favorite book by Patrick Modiano, the Frenchman who just won the Nobel Prize for literature. This put the French minister of culture in a highly awkward position, as she was unable to name any of the works of the highly celebrated M. Modiano, seeing as she’s never read anything he’s written. (She had, however, she noted, much enjoyed a recent luncheon with him.)
Mme. Minister then compounded her sin by admitting that she hadn’t read a book of fiction in years: “I read a lot of notes, a lot of legal texts, the news, A.F.P. stories, but I read very little,” she said in the interview, according to the New York Times.
Whereupon French social media exploded, and writer Claude Askolovitch promptly called Mme. Minister “barbaric” on the French site of the Huffington Post, demanding that she resign.
Poor Fleur. Read more »