I’m officially 24.
Really, it’s just a number. I know this.
But yesterday, I was having a conversation with a guy I know, and he claimed that I’m no longer “desirable” as a friend because of my engagement. Now, he and I go back and forth all the time, and I can take a joke most of the time and run with it, but in light of the fact that my friends seem to be dropping like flies, it really hit home. He kept pushing it, too, saying that I was now “boring” and “nobody wants to hang out with a couple,”and “Why don’t I just go ahead and pop out the childrens right now?”
I let him know that he’d gone too far with a nice whispered, “F**k off.”
But of course, it hurt. Hence why I lashed back at him. Am I undesirable, untouchable, uncallable because I’m engaged? Am I “boring” now that I’m engaged? I don’t think I’m any more or less boring because of the engagement – it’s called responsibility, asshole. Thanks.
This whole back and forth in my head was a little harder because of my birthday. I don’t want to be 24. 24 means one more year away from who I was in college, which I guess is just a “slightly less” boring version of what I am now. I guess I may as well just pop out the childrens, because I mean, once I get married, that’s all that’s left, right?
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I got burned out on the wedding, I think. Ironic timing too, as Weddingbee has already chosen a Miss Margarita, yet another bee from California. (But really, she’s Sri Lankan and Buddhist, that’s pretty hard to beat.) It’s ok though, I’m not Martha Stewart-enough for Weddingbee. And, I’m probably gonna just let my planner do the rest of what we’re paying her to do.
What I need to do is focus on me, because clearly, I’m not happy. I’m losing people left and right due to the “undesirable” disease I have, which I suppose is OK because the ones that really matter are still there, and it just leaves room for new ones.
People that actually call.
People that don’t use Facebook/Myspace as an excuse for human contact.
Here’s to turning 24.