Tuesday, April 3, 2007

No one worth mentioning

Most of my adult life, I’ve been *the single friend. You know, the friend that’s dating, but no-one seriously, or to put it as my mom does “no one worth mentioning” - yeah, I get it honest, you think I’m harsh, meet moms, then we’ll tawk.

I come from a long line of very independent women. My Gramma used to make me angel food cake with fresh strawberries from her garden and home-made whipped cream. The first time she made it for me I must have been 7, maybe 8. We were sitting at the little card table in her kitchen and she told me when I thought about how good it was I should remember that men and icing have a lot in common. Nice but optional. At 7, I probably just laughed and asked for more whipped cream, cuz y’know that shit was good.

In junior high and high school, I was far more into sports than boys. I played soccer, managed the men’s baseball team, was in the marching band (no, I was not a Poofter) and eventually the color guard. I had at least one job at all times exercising horses, selling shoes, working at hallmark, and baby sitting. I was rarely idle.

I broke up with my first boyfriend because I just didn’t have time for him. Being the glowing example of diplomacy and tact that I am - it didn’t go over so well. I can clearly remember the look on my brother’s face when I told him how and why I dumped the guy. Abject horror, I believe is the best description.

Once out of college, I quickly became the friend everyone wanted to set up. I went through with it a few times. Most of the time I was left wondering what I had done to make my friends think I’d be interested in the guy they picked, but usually that was the worst of it. At a certain point I stopped accepting these offers, there were a lot of reasons, but this isn’t that post.

I could tell you why I turned down the men that asked me to marry them, except it’s not terribly exciting. The bottom line for each of them was that I really did just *know* it wouldn’t last. If I’m being 100% honest, I knew well before the proposal came.

I wouldn’t dare say that being single is always the cat’s meow, especially when you catch me in that moment where I can’t open the freakin’ pickle jar or figure out how to start the rented leaf blower.

However, I wouldn’t go back and change my decisions if I could and maybe that’s what matters, maybe that's all that matters.

For the record, I still don’t want to meet your brother.

11 comments:

kenju said...

Most of the time, I would say that I wish I had been more like you. Being independent is good!

roo said...

i love you. really.

Anne said...

Good for you. I wouldn't want to get married unless I was reasonably sure it would last.

In the meantime, if you pry a knife under the edge of the pickle lid, it will let air in and then the jar is much easier to open.
And you can ask the hardware store clerk how to turn on the leaf blower, or buy your own. Problem solved. Hee-hee!

utenzi said...

Just as well, I guess. My brother's married.

tiff said...

I'd be afraid to introduce you to my brother. Seeeeriously.

He knows way too much about me.

rennratt said...

I don't have any brothers.

Just a sister.

I promise that she would only want to be your FRIEND.


I have a single - male coworker who has also never married. I would never DREAM of trying to set him up!

I wonder why it's more acceptable to try and set up a woman?

Anonymous said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Cravey said...

Roo' - right back at you.

QA - Thanks for the pickle jar help.

Utenzi, thanks for that, that's a whole 'nother headache i don't need.

Tiff - Yeah?? But you'll tell me, you know you will.

Renn - Who knows!

And Lastly, to the person who's comment I deleted.. if you've got something nasty to say about me, you're going to have to have the guts to identify yourself. Cowards dont' impress me..and they don't get to leave snide comments on my blog, particularly when they don't even know me.

tiff said...

Dude - rock on!!

you KNOW I'll tell you. all's you have to do is ASK.

Brianf said...

I love being singular. I like the fact that when I walk in the door I turn the lights on and if I want to eat dinner on the coffee table there is noone to give me grief about it. I have met so many people who HAVE to have a b/f or g/f. I don't get it.

Anne said...

Happy Easter! :)