At 38 I still feel like I’m in my 20’s. I have friends my same age who say they feel old. Some, like Foxy, are ready to throw money at the nearest plastic surgeon and have them fix imaginary wrinkles. Trust me, there are some who DEFINITELY look old, and act old, but there are very few days in life where I feel old. As far as I’m concerned I can party like the rest of them – just as long as I’m in bed by 11.
Facebook allows me to keep tabs and track of a bunch of my old college classmates. In the 15+ years since we’ve graduated there have been marriages, babies, divorces, scandals, new jobs, new houses, more babies, more marriages, and plenty of weight gain all around (mostly around my hips and thighs). While I keep in touch with many of them, like most Facebook relationships, they’re pretty superficial. Wouldn’t reach out to them if there was something stressful going on in my life, but will “like” a picture of a new puppy when I see one.
Tomorrow night something different happens – am meeting up with a friend I haven’t seen in 10 years. In college I counted him as one of my very best friends. He knew everything about young Catherinette. My parents and friends joked we would get married one day. I fought that tooth and nail! We were like “When Harry Met Sally” if they never got together, that was my explanation. And yet we did find ourselves together – for exactly one week. The week started with a black out drunk make-out session leaning up against a refrigerator at someone’s party, and ended in tears in the hallway outside a friend’s room when I told him I couldn’t date him. We remained friends – even after I started dating someone new the following week.
We stuck together through all of my stupid college relationships and when he started hooking up with my skanky ass roommate. He was always someone I could turn to and bitch about my love life. He was a good guy. Except for the one time he walked in on me and my boyfriend and refused to leave the room until we admitted we had been doing it. Of course neither one of us would cop to it so then he sat there talking about basketball and asking us why we were under a blanket when it was 90+ outside. That was the only time I wanted to hit him.
Fast forward almost 17 years and he’s now married with two little girls and I’m still a hot mess when it comes to dating. Awesome to see how some things change, and some seem to always stay the same.
So tomorrow we’ll be reunited and we’ll spend the evening doing catch up. Am looking forward to it and dreading it at the same time. It’s times like this, when I see my friends from back in the day with an awesome life and I’m still single, that I question myself. It’s having to deal with the “why are you still single” question that makes me anxious. Oh, and the fact that I’m part pig now.
Hmm…wonder if this whole “I’m part pig” thing is actually related to the “why are you still single” thing…?