Most of the time I'm completely content with my life. I like the fact that I have my own house, my own dogs, my own cd collection full of fantastic music, my own wonderful books, my own clothes strewn on the floor...but then those married people rear their ugly heads and look down their noses at me, they condemn me with their eyes and with their mouths they shake their heads and say, "Another holiday alone" sometimes it's a statement and somethimes it's a slight question.
Let me say this loudly and clearly-I do not want to be married. Right now. I change my mind every day about what's my favorite color, could I possibly commit to one man? For the rest of my life (or the typical 7.4 years of American marriage)? I don't think so.
The latest "showing of my ineptitude as a woman" was done twofold. First, my best friend of over two decades--who is happily married and reformed slut...reminded me that "You're not getting any younger, so stop acting like it. You don't need to f*@k the cook at the bar. You're a beautiful, successful woman, stop romancing the dregs of society" (this is a direct quote after I regaled her with tales of D and my new crush on drk) what the f-@k does that mean? Obviously I'm not getting any younger...nor do I want to--teen years I looked awkward-bleech! Number two, dregs of society? I don't recall bringing home the murderers, rapists or drug dealers...whatever. To my best friend I will say, thanks for being concerned about me. I know you love me and want me to be as happy as you are. And I am. I don't want to be married, I don't want to be in some crazy serious relationship right now--and I know it kills you that I turn men that offer me that away. I'm ok. I'm me.

The second stupid thing that made me feel like I was ten was when I opened up a Christmas card from one of my old friends from high school. Sometimes we try to be friends again which is a monster of a mistake. We are so different now and that's perfect, that's the way it should be...I don't want to be the same person as I was when I was eighteen, but appearently Jme does. She too, is happily married (to a man who once hit on me at her Christmas party several years ago...to a man who skeeves me out...to a man who groped me when Jme wasn't looking and received a knee to the crotch...to man who is a rich, successful loser). At the end of her stupid card she asks, "So when are we going to meet the next man in your life?" The next implies that there are a long line...which perhaps there have been but do you write it in a card? To Jme I say, it's not my fault that when I told you that your gross husband tries to molest me, it's not my fault that he's the nastiest boy on Earth, and it's not my fault that I didn't enter into a contract of monogamy. I'm safe and that's all that matters--so until I say I do, I can say/do just about anything I want.

Perhaps this is a case of...the truth hurts--one friend worries about my choices of men and the other implies that I'm promiscuous.

But, I'm ok with my decisions and I like who I am...and I hope that I get invited to some stupid posh event and I'm taking the biggest, most tattooed biker that I know with me (if my sweet little DRK doesn't take me up on my offer). So there. Nanny nanny boo boo! Rediculous post number II, they shouldn't let me out of work, I have too much time on my hands.