Your face on my fridge

In Dating, Essays, The Daily Drool on April 9, 2009 at 10:34 am

 What happened?

A lot of my friends back home got married right away.  They happily, gleefully met the “Love of their life” and signed on the dotted line, and now I get cards from them at Christmas, all dressed up with miniature versions of themselves in their arms, wearing santa hats and looking happy.  I hang these mile-markers up on my refrigerator for a while… right next to the photos of me and my friends downing yard-sized margaritas in Vegas.


Well, I moved to LA.  People in LA don’t get married young and settle down easy.  

For one, it’s too expensive over here, you just have to stash some away if you have any hope of parking permanently.  For another, the people are LIVING IT UP.  Things are moving fast: fast times, fast laughs, fast everything.  Permanence by it’s very nature disagrees with speed.  So… what happens if you’re a take it slow kind of girl is that you end up waiting.  And now that I’m thirty, my LA friends are starting to tie themselves up, buy houses, and stock up on card-stock for those all-important Christmas cards, and I’m still kind of floundering in the “Fast” without really ever having been one to make the most of it in the first place.

I’ve been observing all of this from my own confusing “Wait, are we adults or are we teenagers” version of the Dating Game that has left my brain a little… well, flummoxed.  

Because I’m really interested in cooking for two.  I’d really like to be able to swap backrubs after a long day.  And I’d sort of like to have a man around to take out the garbage when it’s late instead of dashing down the the dumpster with my pepper spray at 2 a.m.  And I know these are little things, but I’ve come to the conclusion that the little things are what make it all so wonderful.

So, I’m drifting along… trying to recoup the energy I’ve already spent, and I’m thinking about past beginnings (and their endings) and it’s just really mysterious to me what makes certain people stick while others seem born to drift away.  

Of course all of this pondering just leads to more confusion about the very idea of permanence… Like, how can you ever trust that the person sitting across from you stroking your hand won’t change his/her mind in six-months/a year/ a decade?  How do you know he/she won’t come home one day with a one-way ticket to Dropping-Your-Ass-Like-a-Ton-of-Bricks-Ville?  I mean, you don’t, right?  

So you take it on faith.

And you go for it, because to live in fear of what “May” happen is ludicrous.  


        … or is it?

Because I’m telling you, these tired bones, they are a-creaking.  And this weary heart, it is shoring up it’s defenses.  Because the other thing that happens as you get older?  You invest in thicker walls, better security, and you start reading your horoscope in the hopes of knowing when to bring out the umbrella, because baby, when it rains, it pours.


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