Ditto on that sista

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Marriage Shmarriage (Homie Don't Play That)

Tonight I was dining on a Fiesta Salad out with my mom when I overheard a group of girls sitting next to us talking about bridesmaid dresses. Lilac, to be exact. The girls looked to be about my age, and I started making fake-gagging noises to my mom about how it is "disgusting" and "stupid" when people get married so young (yep those are the first words that came to mind). My mom just replied "everyone's different." Since I've moved to NY, my negative feelings towards marriage have grown noticeably and irrevocably stronger.

One woman I babysat for is 28 and on her 3rd baby. I used to think of her and her husband as a normal couple-- 28 is normal to be married and having babies-- right? Then I graduated, and now that I'm 22, I don't know if I could imagine myself with a baby in six years. MAYBE, maybe, MAYBE - but definitely not with three! Two words: SOCIAL SUICIDE.

A lot of my friends are starting to get engaged and/or moving in together, and it's freaking me out. I remember in my economics class in my freshman year of college, the professor taught a whole lesson about the probability of meeting your husband/wife while in school -- basically, with the ratio of single men to women at the same point in their lives -- it was like a 79% chance you were going to meet the person you'd vow to spend the rest of your life with. I remember giving a sigh of relief I had 3.75 more years of college to find my husband. And, welp, that didn't happen. Unless I marry any of my ex-boyfriends (who, in their defense, I actually could have seen myself marrying at one point or another). Or somehow manage to turn any of my pseudo-gay friends straight... which would be a very chilly day in hell. Besides, I've self-diagnosed myself with ADHLD - Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Love Disorder - so, at this age, I'd probably get bored on the honeymoon and fly home early.

Long story short, I am quite content with being generally unattached and unengaged for now. Do I want to have someone to share things with? Yes. Do I want to be head-over-heels about someone? Of course. Do I want to start planning a wedding, complete with cheesy engagement photos (see above)? HELLLLLL to the NO. In NYC, this attitude is common-- no one would judge me by this. But I think a lot of non-NY girls pity me.

So, when those girls are miserable and pregnant by age 26, I hope to be with a hot(but not TOO hot!), semi-serious (but not TOO serious!) boyfriend, surrounded by good company and squeezing every millisecond out of my youth/unwrinkled skin.

Besides, do you know how much babysitters charge these days? An hour of babysitting is, like, a handle of cheap vodka (two hours and you can throw in a brita to filter that junk into Grey Goose).



Of course, my opinion on marriage may change next week.
Stay tuned, lovely readers, stay tuned.

Crazy

This weekend was really crazy. Crazy in that I saw way too many people from my younger years, crazy in that I feel like a true-blue adult, crazy in that the life I thought I left behind in my move to NYC feels like it will be permantly attached to my heart.

My good friend A-leigh sent me this article a while back and it seems fitting for the events that have transpired over the course of this 3 day vacation. It hits home at this point... not to get all girlie on you people or anything.

Women want things to go on. All things. Even, or perhaps particularly, sad things. We want our lovers to love us forever. Not necessarily to be with us forever, but to carry us someplace in their hearts, someplace prominent. Women want to matter. And as such, we do not like endings. We prefer the untidy swell and ebb of emotion to the change-of-address card. We know that feelings are complicated, fluid, uncontrollable-and all that really count in the final days of life. We know this intuitively, and because we know it, we are happy in the mess.

Men, not so much. When men leave a marriage, they just go. They follow their bliss. They make no apologies. They move on, the cord cut. Women need a reason to leave. "Because I want to," is never enough. We need witnesses and encouragement and approval and an alternate vision of our future.

This may be a bit creepy to post but I'm a self-proclaimed creep so read it and weep. Fo realz.