Valentine’s Day fell over the weekend. Newsflash. And the entire free world seemed obsessed that I was single. My married friends, my partnered friends, my engaged friends and my swinger friends could not fathom me being alone on the world’s most romantic day.
Good Lord … get over it.
If I wanted to grow up and get married, don’t you think that would have happened by now? (Uh, I’m still working on the growing up part.) I’m quite content with me, myself and I. Always have been, for the most part. My dad always makes the situation sound more dire than need be. “But Michael – you are aloooooooooone. There’s no one in your life. That must be incredibly looooooooooonely.” (I’m assuming the drawn-out “O’s” are Dad’s attempt at dramatic effect.)
I always respond with my generic, pat answer. “Dad, I’m very content with my large circle of friends. They are a revolving cast of characters and I’m very lucky to have them in my life. And, no, I don’t want to date any of them. Ever. Gross.”
I weighed the pros and cons of being single over the weekend. The pros definitely win. Most of my married friends have reproduced ad nausea. They have no time for anything or anyone. They constantly seem stressed or tired. And because of the large number of children, everything in their house is sticky. I, on the other hand, can jet off to Mazatlan for the weekend and not think twice about it. I don’t have to answer to anyone. I can come and go as I please and a small life does not hang in the balance.
Another pro – I avoid divorce. My divorced friends are even more stressed or tired than my married friends. And they are bitter on top of it. Sounds delightful. I want no part of it.
Some of my friends are complete basket/head cases if they’re not in a relationship. That is inconceivable to me. If I could find the right person to cater to my every whim – so be it. Oh wait. I have found the right person … they include my aesthetician, my massage therapist, my shrink, my stylist, my favorite bartender, my trainer, my acupuncturist and the guy who cuts my lawn. They take up a majority of my free time. And I am not complaining. I’m sure the perfect person will fall in my lap when I’m not looking.
So if you’re trying to set me up with someone … don’t. If you want to know what my type is … I don’t have one. And if you think I’d be better off dating and/or married … look in the mirror. I’m ridiculously happy and full of zest 24/7. Are you?
stressed. tired. sticky house. I’d be offended if it weren’t all true. damn. I shall continue to live vicariously through you.
Somehow I knew Kiki would be the one to reply
Feb 20th 2009 at 2:55 Iowa Time
Michael I know your not alone now. Let us forward a few years down the line. When you approach the Sharecroppers age. That would be 2052. I cannot imagine how things will be in this country forty three years from now. We will be long gone. I remember the letter I wrote you when you were born. I said not to read it until you were 21. You did read it at 21. I know I still have the same hope ,wishes and dreams for you in that coming year as I did the year you turned 21. You are living your own life and making your own decisions. I would not want to interfer in that one bit. Both Mom and I are very proud of you and always will be, single or married. I have had more then one person say “You have to be awfully proud of Michael” I know “what to do and when to do it” as the answering message you put on our phone says. So I tell them right off …Yes we are very proud of Michael.
Jut like today when you called and said one of your luncheon pardner’s choked on some food and you had to perform the Helmick manuver which possibly saved their life. My former Manager at John Deere died from chocking on a piece of meat caught in his throat.
So Michael I guess all we can say is whe the year 2052 and you merge,,,,,You will just have to say like the Frank Sinatara song ” I did it my way”
Love
Dad and Mom
PS Today is the first time I read this blog I see I am comment #3