At breakfast today one of my friends, describing another mutual acquaintance said “he’s only gotten laid like 3 times in the last 3 months.” I responded with “Um, Please.” By which I meant “My ex kicked me out in October of last year and haven’t had anything remotely approaching a romantic partnership since then so I am not at all in sympathy with anyone who has, at the very least, gotten laid anytime in 2010 and is complaining."
I do wish I had a boy. It would be nice to have someone to wear nice skirts for, and someone upon whose shoulder I could occasionally put my head. Someone who would gently laugh at me and hold me around my waist while putting his head on my shoulder (and, um possibly provide other services which I will not describe.) While G&M Rental Boyfriend Services is wonderful, it would be nice to have someone who felt *obligated* to help me lift heavy things or install my AC. It would also be nice to have someone to sort out my “Windows PCs can’t use my AirPort” problem (yes, I know, I could probably sort that one out on my own, but it would be less of a chore to do with a friend and all my nerd friends are Mac People so...)
I'd love to have a special friend I could plot things with. It would be nice to have what Vonnegut describes in Mother Night as a “Republic of Two” where we made our own language and had our own signifiers-intimate as a pair of lace panties, but subtle enough that we could telegraph meaning in public without anyone understanding. (“No one else knows, but I’ve just signed at you that the guy to your left forgot to take his pills this morning.”)
But that is all the ice cream on top of the pie. And the pie itself is often filled with “who left the laundry un-dried?” and “didn’t I ask you to pick up the dry-cleaning/do the dishes/vacuum the carpet/walk the dog/pay the electric bill/book a hotel room?” And dear reader, lest you think I’m too hard on men, I admit I’m flaky enough to have forgotten to do any of these things. The pie is filled with compromises and arguments, with things that are hard to do along with things that are fun to do.
For example-“Let’s buy a house together”
“Okay-sounds like fun, but to save money for said house you should stop spending money on gadgets, clothes and pedicures.”
"Um, but I like my gadgets and pedicures--why don't you give up your Magic habit instead?"
"We could both give up comic books?"
"Are you mad?"
“Let’s hang out sometime.”
“Lesse-I have class on Tuesdays and Wednesdays and I have a team meeting on Saturday so when? Oh, and I have to work late on Thursday.”
I cannot be having discussions over whose job it was to put the trash out during Term Time. Neither do I have the emotional energy to pitch a fit because I'm feeling unloved (or possessive.) Instead, I need to be spending my energy on digesting my own stomach over papers and problem sets. And I need to save all my patience for my classmates/teammates who can only meet at inconvenient times. So not only am I profoundly uninterested in dealing with the more difficult parts of a relationship-when school’s in I *cannot* deal with them.
I am still-9 or 10 months (depending on how you count) out of my last relationship-so very uninterested in dealing with the difficult parts of the pie that I find myself forgoing the ice cream on top relatively happily.
No, that’s a lie. I really wish I had one small scoop of ice cream to put on top of my sunburnt summer.