Love Me Jaded

Last Friday night I received a phone call from one of my greatest and longest friends, Jillian Wright. She and I grew up together and were close in every girl’s greatest time of need—Junior High. We dreamed about our first kiss, had crushes on the neighbor boys, had sleepovers, dug through racks at trashy thrift stores to find the ultimate vintage clothing (that was uber popular back then, remember?), and talked about how chubby and awkward we felt. I remember bringing Slim Fast for lunch with the labels peeled off so no one would catch on to what we were drinking. If only I could be that thin again. We even had notebooks that we would pass back and forth and write long notes during class with pink-colored pens and rainbows. She was my very best friend. I have so many memories about us growing up together. During high school we remained close, but we were involved in two different friend groups. She started dating someone seriously, and so did I. Eventually, after the four years that I was in Bellingham and now that I live in Seattle, our lives have taken two very different turns. We will always remain friends though.

The opposite direction of our life paths was reiterated to me during her Friday-night phone call. She gushed to me that her boyfriend of seven years (aackk!!!) had proposed. And I’m supposed to be in the wedding. Of course, being the sentimental dork that I am, this kind of got me all choked up, and I felt little tears come to my eyes. JILLIAN IS GETTING MARRIED?!?

Wow. I now officially have two friends who are engaged and whose wedding dates are set for next spring. How exciting! Lately, I’ve been a bitter jerk about long-term relationships and the people my friends choose to spend all their time with. But seriously, both Jillian and my friend Shannon are marrying people who I genuinely believe they will be happy with. And geez, I’m a girl—although I choose to roll my eyes at most conventional relationships at the present moment, I can’t roll my eyes at my best friends’ weddings.

So, I’ve been rolling around the idea of being a bridesmaid. Let’s see. I’m not fat, so I don’t think I’ll have a problem with the dress or color being unflattering on me. (Isn’t that a testament to our present day society when fitting into the bridesmaid dress is the first thing a woman thinks about?!?) And maybe I’ll meet some hot guy at the wedding. Isn’t that what happens when you’re a bridesmaid? Except most of the people at the wedding will probably have attended my high school. Ick. I haven’t really come up with any negative association with being a bridesmaid until I was hanging out with my good friend Josh. Of course, I told him about the wedding and how it was going to be my very first time as a bridesmaid. Leave it to Josh to crush all my taffeta dreams by one simple phrase, “Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.”

So, it’s a little cliché. But I think that is one phrase that definitely makes my skin crawl. On all those stupid MySpace surveys that ask what your biggest fear is, I always fill out, “Being the last friend to get married.” Seriously, it’s frightening. I don’t want to be the friend who is 30 or 40 and still playing this ridiculous dating game. I don’t want to hide in my apartment on the weekends, doing yoga on my floor and meditating while I water my plants and pet my cats. And although I’m overreacting, (I still have at least ten girl friends who aren't engaged yet), my current perpetually single status makes me worry a little. Not only do I feel the itch to have a serious boyfriend, but I have the pressure coming from all angles. I’ve even been dreaming and thinking about ex-boyfriends lately. Is my biological clock ticking, and will I have to start making phone calls to all my exes in the past to see if something is still there? I know I’m only 24 years old, but I’ve started to feel the pressure. My mom mentions grandbabies every time I come home. I was talking to my friend Larisa about how I’m trying to make friends who don’t have boyfriends because I have enough friends who do. She said, “Maybe you just need to get a boyfriend.” Even my junk email box is shouting to me how pathetic I am… “Find True Love” and “Soul Mates” the messages read. One of them from “David” is titled “Watch My Wife Suck It,” hell, even David has found a wife.

So, I’m not on the husband-hunting path yet, and quite frankly, despite all my bitching and woes, I’m happy with being single. Not to say that I wouldn’t enjoy a good foot rub, a free dinner, or a good fuck once in awhile, but I’m happy other than that. But I’ve definitely started to question my ability to date, or if guys like me or not, or if I’m cute enough, thin enough, worthy enough. Will I ever fall in love again? I’m starting to feel a little skeptical about the idea of finding a decent guy who will love me and never leave me. I guess this is what happens to us the older we get and the more we’ve been hurt. I’m jaded. I guess I’ll just have to refer to Aerosmith when I meet the next man of my dreams (and hopefully he won’t be divorced and 35): Love me Jaded.

Currently Feeling: Like tomorrow is Christmas
Currently Anticipating: This weekend. I have awesome plans. Cinco de Mayo on Friday, Mariners game and a Cinco de Mayo Siesta party on Saturday and pedicures, wine and good television with Jill on Sunday
Currently Listening To: Pearl Jam! I’ve got to learn all the lyrics before the concert this July.