this girl i know told me a story about the last time she went to some fancy pants salon to get her monthly [weekly??] pedicure:
she was sitting in between these two attractive ladies that looked to be in their mid forties.
the one on her right starts talking about her boyfriend... they've been dating two years and she keeps pressuring him to get married. he tells her, "wait ONE more year, and then we'll start talking about it." she's all distraught. she was a partygirl in her twenties. she'd been proposed to on several occasions but never accepted; she wanted to maintain her freedom. she doesn't expressly say she REGRETS her forty year old singledom, but she hints at it.
the one on her left then procures her wedding ring hand to show off her zsa-zsa ring. she says rather unapologetically that she and her husband will be celebrating their twentieth wedding anniversary next week. she says, "you gotta catch the good ones when you're young, while the pickins' still good."
this was, apparently, hilarious. you had to be there and such.
i know why the girl told me the story.
and for a couple hours [or was it days?] i was desperately worried that i've gotten too old and all the good ones are already snatched up and engaged, or well on their way... AND that i let MY big catch get away... and that i was doomed to end up just like that desperate-to-marry forty year old lady.
and then i stopped, and reminded myself i'm only twenty-one [almost twenty-two goddamit to hell...] and i don't even want to get married and i'm sure there are millions of suitable, marriable people at age forty.
but at what point does that really come true? when are all the good ones gone? there are only so many "mr. big"s out there.
on august 29th, you will find me in a movie theatre enjoying jeepers creepers 2, starring the inimitable leland palmer [aka ray wise].
brian and i are going to las palmas tonite. i'm a littttttle bit nervous. seeing him was supergood the other day, but jeremy was there to keep things lighthearted in case things got weird. [they didn't, not once.]
charlie very rightly pointed out that i talk about brian as if he broke up with me and i am miserable. i'm not sure why. i'm sad, to be sure. brian doesn't seem sad at all. he is all about improving himself and giving up beer and going on vacation and making new friends.
in other words, he's handling things in a healthy, admirable, easy-going way. i am the one compiling my own rendition of "abba on the jukebox".
to be honest, i go back and forth over whether or not i did the right thing. and although it's a cliche, only time will tell.