Top of the muffin to all the people reading this and a tiny mea culpa to the male gender re: yesterday’s rant. It was, uh, my female time, and I was irritable. Okay, don’t think of a specific “Everybody Loves Raymond” episode, when Raymond queried as to whether Debra was PMSing. So I am putting the blame on Eve, because for an apple, we must suffer for generations of cramps and guys using PMS as the butt of their jokes, and suffer through childbirth’s pain(try pushing a watermellon out of your nostrils.). Had the tree been growing Godiva Chocolates, I would’ve completely understood Eve’s decision. A Granny Smith? No.
So the youth still flock to me like paparazzi to document every breath Ms. Spears takes. I have no idea why. I am no female Michael Jackson. 22 yr. old Hallmark Kisser took my IpodNano and filled it with some of my favorite bands–The Rasmus, Whitesnake, Breaking Benjamin, etc…He can’t wait to meet up with me tonight, and I don’t know how to look him in the eyes and tell him I kissed another guy since him. Well, a friend. Yesterday. Someone that was in the neighborhood, and wanted to do dinner…I know him for a few years, and he has only been nice to me…We will never marry, even though he was someone I wanted to marry. He is a player–25–but way more mature. He reeks of Eau de Confidence, and when we meet, fireworks crackle. I feel horrible. THIS ISN’T ME. I AM NICE. 22 yr. old is a dead end, as is this occasional rendezvous friend. I am marriage minded–thats the goal–OR IS IT???
Am I commitment phobic, therefore, date people I know it will never happen with–it being marriage? I do not stand alone. My friends that don’t have 2.5 children are doing the same. Do we want ’til death do us part, or is that just a romantic notion?