In a fit of self indulgence, post-Thanksgiving boredom and the fact that I feel too chubby and cold to go out I started re-reading an old journal.
Circa a time when I thought waking up at 11 qualified as “early.” Circa a time when I thought knowing the “dj” mattered and that vodka and Red Bull made for a tasty cocktail.
This was only about a year and a half ago ya’ll. In the interim, I may have developed some better habits, but I’m on the brink of becoming boring. The fact that I’m blogging while wearing my boyfriend’s Cardinals hoodie on a Saturday night proves this.
I found a list that my friend Alexis (who inspired this) and I made in May 2007. It’s our “No Scrubs” list which I think sprung from a terrible date I went on where the guy took me to see “Hannibal” and smelled my hair. Not a nice, cute hair smell either. It was like he was trying to inhale me. This is a very weird thing to do on a first date.
Anyway, it says a lot about the sorry state of affairs for the modern single woman (at least in Phoenix) that some of our requirements were actually, “showers regularly,” and “doesn’t say things like ‘lay the pipe’.”
I’m not sure if it’s that our collective female standards have never been lower, or if once you reach a certain age in a certain scene, the stock just plummets.
Or maybe it’s just that I spent far too much of my single time making lists and going on dates with dudes who probably make hair dolls and lamenting past “loves.”
And now I spend my coupled nights in a hoodie, writing about lists I have made, pretending I’m too busy to help my boyfriend move his things into my basement and lamenting the “good old days” when I was miserable.
I think this need to romanticize and feel nostalgic about the very recent, very terrible, extremely boring past is a defining characteristic of post-emotionalism (a working theory I have about everything my generation loves and hates) but for right now, I’m going to cop out and decide I’m too post-post emotion to work it out tonight.
1 Comment
December 1, 2008 at 8:44 pm
I love you.
I find myself thinking about the same things. Wondering if I’m too boring and reclusive now that I’m in a healthy relationship that makes me happy. As though being a broken-hearted zombie was a more acceptable form of existence. I spend too much time worrying about alienating myself from people. What we need to realize is that in our most social time, we felt ten times more alienated than we do now. What we need to realize is that it’s okay to stay home on Saturday nights.