Live from Smartyville

I was thinking about going out to do something mildly social tonight, but I can't because I have too much acne. Also my back hurts really bad. And my eyes. And I have dishes to wash and laundry to fold. The house is very, very quiet. There is rice in my steamer, cooking. If I close my eyes, I could fool myself into thinking I'm back in Suckville on a typical Saturday night. But I'm not--I'm here, in the land of the I'm Way Smart and Lucky Enough To Have a Doctor/Lawyer/Investment Banker Dad, So I'm Pretty Much Set For the Rest of My Life. Sometimes I feel too dumb and backwoods to even leave my house. But this is only on really bad days. Today wasn't too bad, but like I said, there's the whole acne issue (on accounta my wacky hormones and one of the most stressful weeks of my life). I feel kind of smart today. But I feel middle class. I feel middle class every day, pretty much, being from Suckville and all. Sometimes I look at the tweeded and bespectacled whiteys that crowd the streets of the city I work in, and I wonder how I got here. But I want to live here. I feel alive here. Like when a woman yelled "Grow some balls!" out her car window at a whimp who wouldn't make a left turn, and then gave me, a pedestrian, a humble smile. That made me feel sort of elated.

Earlier today I felt really behind. And I don't mean behind on stupid work or bills or anything like that. I mean behind in the whole hetero myth of couple and reproduce. The mythical norm. Lots of people my age have their person all picked out already, and have had years to learn to hate and tolerate each other. I did that too, but then it got sucked away, like getting the wind knocked out of me. And now I'm just me. People my age who have been coupled for as long as I was are giving birth left and right or at least thinking about it. But not me. Except today I am. Thinking about it. But in order to catch up with these people, I'd have to meet someone who isn't totally nutzoid which I don't know how to do, develop some kind of relationship, decide fairly quickly that we can stand each other enough to stay together for some length of time, and then begin the process of trying to have a kid, if that's what we want. This whole thing could take years for me. And then I'll be 40 and going into have hormone shots. Christ. Why am I thinking about this?

I don't know how to meet people. I don't know if I even want to meet people. I feel ok being single here most of the time, but today I feel like someone's weird aunt. I don't know if I want to be someone's weird aunt. But I don't want to date. I don't want to find "the love of my life" because I don't believe in that anymore. I don't believe in all of the things I was supposed to spend my life pursuing: love and all that crap. I just believe in me, Yoko and me, right? But tonight I feel kind of lonely. I need to make up some new dating service: for thinking people who don't really want to date. Wouldn't that be the best way to meet someone? Come on single friends, let's do it. Call it I'd Really Rather Hang Out with My Dog, But Fine, Let's Go On a Date, Whatever.

I only have a few breeding years left. Arrrggh, did I really just write that? Yes. It's the weirdo hormones talking. I don't want to give birth. But I do want to have a kid. I like kids a lot. I like talking to them. I don't like boyfriends. I don't like talking to them at all. I guess I need to eliminate the middle man and go straight for the product. Maybe I'll adopt in a few years. And be a weird mom that no one knows what to do with. I'll talk really loud about personal topics in coffee shops while playing Scrabble with my son, Ivor. We'll both be in leopard sweater vests. We won't go home for Christmas; in fact, we won't celebrate Christmas. We'll celebrate Jackson Pollock's birthday by throwing paint at a wall. But I'll take him home to see the cornfields so he knows that his roots are in Suckville. Except for I'll have a different name for it by then, because I'll have learned to love it again.