kiwifruit's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Miami Nice I have been staring at this page, writing, and deleting all over and over again for the past fifteen minutes. Just got back from the gym and had my Crema Lita for dinner (banana and chocolate swirl tonight if you�re interested). C. is at the gym which leaves me in our blissfully quite apartment for at least another half hour. Only I can�t seem to think of what to write. Florida was interesting�I worked a lot and drank a lot and schmoozed a lot and met lots of lovely people and had a somewhat fun time. I also had a bit of an epiphany. Well, kind of� Thing is, C. and I have been having some problems of late. It may well be the fact that I�ve become obsessed with weddings. Not to sound clich�, but I�m a thirty-one year old woman dating a twenty-eight year old guy and sometimes I think�I�ll never get married. When friends and co-workers all around me show up sporting engagement rings and toting In Style�s Celebrity Bridal issue I start to panic. What if he never asks me to marry him?! It doesn�t matter that I�m not sure if we can work through certain things that would make our marriage a guaranteed failure. No. Hell no. That doesn�t matter. We�re not being a smart, logical woman here. We�re being a brainwashed little ninny who thinks that with marriage comes that holy grail�security. The thought that you�ll never have to sleep alone. You�ll never be dateless on a major holiday. You can start sentences with �We� for the rest of your life and really alienate and annoy all your single friends. Of course none of this is true. And I know this, but sometimes I cant help myself. I mean, I was engaged before. He did propose in the middle of a French bistro while everyone around us clapped and the waitress brought champagne. And it wasn�t that he wasn�t right. It was that I wasn�t right. I wasn�t ready. I�m not so sure all that much has changed. I mean, okay, yes�a lot has changed. I don�t feel compelled to starve myself or puke up trays of cupcakes anymore. I�m not so filled with self-loathing. But in all honesty, I still spend a lot of time worrying that I�m not good enough. And that anyone that would be delusional enough to think that they�d like to spend the rest of their life with me has got to have some serious flaws or just be blind. And if all these fears aren�t enough to make you wonder if I�ve been reading stupid articles about women over thirty having a better chance of getting clobbered by a bus than finding a husband, well then there�s one more. The Grand Daddy clich� of all clich�s��What if I �waste� the next one, two�ten�years of my life on this guy and am left with nothing?! What if? What if? What if a plane comes out of the sky and careens into your office cubicle while you�re having your morning cup of coffee? I need to get over myself. And here I�ve babbled so long about my state of ridiculousness that I haven�t managed to get into my Florida �epiphany� or the fact that since this epiphany I am still fantasizing about wedding dresses and butter cream frosted cakes, but I�ve also realized that C. is a damn good guy and that a little blue box from Tiffany�s isn�t going to guarantee that we make it or that we don�t. My best friend called me today on her way back from a court date (Ms. High Powered Lawyer that she is). She left me a long rambling message on my voice mail about how she couldn�t stand to listen to all the sordid details of these people�s lives for another moment�the messy divorces, the financial problems, the lying, cheating, filthy little things that people do to one another�she said, �I remember seeing a bumper sticker on a car once�� (coming from Vermont we see a lot of bumper stickers on cars, and we actually read them)��it said, The more I get to know people, the better I like my dog.� I promise I�ll be back in a timely manner. I will explain my epiphany (which after all this babble and build up will prove very disappointing). I will talk about more inane boring things, I will probably whine, I�ll talk about what flavor of Crema Lita I had for dinner�and then, you will really love your dog, or your cat or even the cockroaches that live under your sink if you don�t have any pets. La di da. La di da.
9:08 p.m. - 2002-03-12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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