As you may have figured, I am very picky when it comes to the guys I date. Well, I wouldn’t say necessarily picky, but I absolutely listen to my gut and don’t just “try things out” if I’m not sure. I’d rather be in 100% and absolutely smitten. What happens in the 50/50 cases? I get bored, disappointed with myself, cold and distant one day and happy the other. Eventually I end up screwing around with someone’s mind, leaving them with thoughts of “what happened” and obviously cursing the day they ever met and fell for me.
That being said, I tend to be single more than I am taken. And that’s fine. I’d rather wait for something amazing and wonderful, instead of having mediocre bleh boyfriends. So it really amazes me when people who are older ( married or seriously attached) find it’s their duty (on purpose or just by un-intentionally making conversation) to not only ask you why, but comfort you that someday you will find someone and give helpful ways to go about meeting people
Exhibit A: Mother’s Day Weekend
This weekend in particular was a mad-scene. Not only was it Mother’s Day, but it was also my friend Courtney’s Bachelorette Party. I wondered how it would work out going to a Bachelorette Party the night before a Mother’s Day brunch. I assumed obviously drink-portion control was out of the question and would have to suck it up and be miserable the entirety of Sunday.
I rushed around Saturday afternoon, getting ready, buying gifts for Court and my Mom, and somehow got to her parent’s house just in the nick of time to have a drink and chat some people up.
When everyone arrived, we loaded into cars and headed for dinner at this place The Inlet Cafe in The Highlands. I’d never eaten there before, so was very pleasantly surprised to the Cajun Feast (yum miscellaneous sea foods in a spicy Cajun sauce) for an appetizer, followed by an entree of angel hair pasta with lobster and asparagus tips in a tasty possible Parmesan type of sauce and a cheese burger split between me and my friend Geraldine. Doesn’t get better than that.
After a stolio-o and club or three, I stood up and headed into the bathroom when surprise, who was waiting on line? The mother of the bride! I have known Mrs. O’Callaghan for years and years (spent the mas-majority of 1995-2000 at their home), so naturally, we started chatting about the wedding and life etc.
Me: I can’t believe they are getting married so soon. It has really snuck up! Wow two weeks away (something like that).
Mrs. O: Well they have been dating for 7 years, it was time (again something along the lines of that). And your next! Do you have anyone special or….
Saved. A stall freed up and Mrs. O’Callaghan went in. I breathed a sigh of relief. What would I have said otherwise? *awkward laugh* haha no, no…. no one special. But you know, I’m looking. bleh blah
Lies lies. I’m not looking to get married. I keep my eyes open for people I can stand more than 5 minutes. But how do you tell that to a mom without sounding like a horror and obnoxious?
So the bachelorette party came and went. Very good time. We took a limo down to a shore spot and danced the night away.
The next morning I awoke around 6, fully dressed, laying on top of my purse, in my old bedroom at my parent’s house. I wasn’t hungover, but could see it emerging if I didn’t hydrate myself within the next few minutes. So I raced downstairs, gulped down some water, brought some up with me, and went back to sleep. Around 8, I woke up again and figured I should take a shower so I could let my hair dry while I slept.
Surprisingly, by the time we left for the “Mothers & Others” party at my mom’s friend Andreas’, I was feeling good and hoping there would be some nice wine at this fiesta.
Wrong. 3 choices:White Merlot, White Zinfandel, & Budweiser. Thanks a lot Andrea.
But the food spread was great and I happily mingled with the group of guests and ate my little heart out. Before we got to the party, my mom warned me of this one couple who were kind of weird and that I may or may not like. When we did eventually meet, you could tell instantly that they were socially awkward and hard to believe 1/2 of what they said because it was all TOO MUCH. Their form of chit-chat was so so forced and practiced, as if they rehearsed on the way to the party. And soooo loopy – Come on, they do tai-chi, brought pictures of their plants from home, and the woman wore a kimono and spoke all new-agey, but way too polite. It’s hard to explain. Next time you run into me , ask. I do a really good impersonation.
Of course these are my favorite types of characters, the people I just can’t understand, so ended up talking to them quite a bit that day.
The good questions the woman asked me:
So tell me Kristine, what is it like being young now-a-days?
Where are the great places to eat in Hoboken? My husband and I have NEVER been there, but what happens if we drove through? It would be nice to have a list of places just in case, you never know.
You should be happy to be as spiritually evolved as yourself. How lucky it is to have a mother likes yours. Tell me, how does it feel to have grown up in such an open and spiritual home?And then:
Tell me, how are the men now? From the single girls point of view? How is it? Tell me I’m so fascinated.
So of course I got in a shpeil about the lack of guys and how I haven’t met anyone mildly entertaining in a while , how I like being single, don’t want to get married for a while, want to settle in my career before any thoughts of settling down come into play blah blah, totally putting up a defence because what was I going to do? Just shrug and say fine fine, which could have been confused with sadness and bad-self esteem? Hell no. I wanted her to regret asking such a dumb question.
THEN came the finale. I was getting tired and so casually told/reminded my mom -I need to go back to Hoboken, let’s go let’s let’s go!!!! As we began to say our goodbye’s, the woman said to me, while placing her hand on my shoulder,
“Kristinnnnne, I’ve been meaning to tell you (all very drawn out and dramatic), I met my husband in a personal ad and we’ve been together for 10 — looong — years. My mother did the same. So I wanted to tell you there’s hope. There’s still hope”.
I reply, “oh haha that’s great,” all the while giving my mother the ARE YOU KIDDING ME, WHAT THE HELL ARE WE STILL DOING HERE eye. “Thank you, thank you for the words of encouragement”.
So does it come down to show us that there is no use of a defense because at the end of the day, once you reach a certain age, no matter where you are in life or how much you protest to settling, the only right way is to be coupled and paired? Should I be, at 25, stored away and compartmentalized? In which case, I am immediately fleeing the country in search of a single girl island where independence is praised and marriage is in no rush. Where to? Maybe Australia?What are their views there? Definately something to look into…