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February 09, 2004

That's Amore

The fact that my birthday is getting closer and closer by the minute really scares me. It's not so much that I'm afraid of getting older, but that I'm uneasy about finally transitioning into my new "adult" phase. Honestly, I don't know the first thing about being "grown up," and I'm not quite sure I'm ready to let go of the excuseable laziness provided by my pre-teen and teenage years. Daddy's Little Girl isn't quite ready to adapt to her new and improved Big Girl status.

For the first time in my life, I feel as though there's this pressing urgency for me to do everything I can in the shortest amount of time possible. I want to finish school, move to New York, get a job with an agency/network, and maybe even start my own production company--all in the next ten years. Will I be able to do that? I look around at all my older cousins who are still bumming around the same small town atmosphere, bogged down with children, broken marriages, and underpaying jobs. I don't want to be like that; and I'm afraid that if I don't start now, I won't be any better off than they are in their thirties.

But I also really want to get married... I know it sounds silly for me to be so concerned about this kind of thing right now, but I do worry about it occassionally. I'm not the kind of girl who's going to just fall for anybody. If that were the case, I'd probably have a boyfriend right now (sadly enough, I don't). I'm always making excuses for the guys I meet: They're either too short, too sweaty, too loud, or too dumb. Lots of the guys I meet fall into the latter category, of course, but that really isn't saying much. I'm picky. Very picky. I want to spend my life with someone who's interested in more than the color of my underwear--someone who picks up a book and actually reads it on a regular basis. I want to meet someone who likes to laugh out loud all the time, and who really likes children. Someone smart enough to put the toilet seat down after leaving the bathroom, and sweet enough to know not to use my mouthwash. Basically, I all I want is to marry someone who isn't set on getting the milk without buying the cow.

...Is that so much to ask?

There's a guy in a few of my journalism classes who met his current fianc? online. They've only known each other for six months, and he says that as soon as he met her, he knew she'd be the one.

"But how do you know," I asked pleadingly. "How can you be so sure?"

"I dunno," he shrugged. "You just know."

"I don't think I'll ever really know," I told him honestly. "Besides, I don't plan on getting married for another eight or ten years. What's the hurry?"

"That's what I said, but look where I am now. Anyways, it'll probably happen to you when you least expect it. I'll bet you'll be married in another three or four years, at least."

Three or four years?

There is no way I'm going to be married in three to four years. Not at this rate.

Mr. Right, if you happen to be reading this, try to postpone our meeting for another five or six years. That is, unless you happen to fall madly in love with Yasmine Bleeth sometime soon. In that case, hurry up and get your butt on over here. You've got some explaining to do.

Today's Soundtrack: "Love Song for No One," John Mayer (Who was looking particularly hot with his gray suit and pink tie at last night's Grammys, I must say)

Best Part of the Day: N/A

posted at 8:58 a.m.

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