My petulance, which took a break in the face of all encompassing glee on Friday and was subsequently trumped by bliss and exhaustion over the weekend, is back with a vengeance. Everything continues to annoy me. Oh, there is no amount of words I can come up with to fully explain how very little patience I have for this right now.
I'm also wondering whether it is physically impossible for me to just be friends with a boy. Why must everything either dissolve into awkward flirting or girlfriends who loathe me? Let me address these issues - I have no interest in dating you, and I am not interested in stealing your boyfriend. I just want to be friends. Alright? Alright. I don't want to overcomplicate things. I just want to enjoy what it is.
Relationship talk, along with rampant egocentricity, are two leading contributors to my general state of annoyance with the world. Funnily enough, I received two phone calls over the past week concerning the R word. The first was from my maternal grandmother, in which the latest family drama was discussed. She concluded by saying she was so glad I wasn't obsessed with having a boyfriend like the rest of the cousins. I replied that most people just assumed there was something wrong with me and she said, "Tell them just because they made a mistake doesn't mean you should too." Yesterday my paternal grandfather calls because he suddenly remembered it was my birthday recently. First he asks whether I think I passed Honours in a tone that suggests he thinks it may be an issue, despite the fact that I have consistently achieved the highest grades amongst the grandchildren despite the fact that I have the disadvantage of being, you know, a girl. Then there was an exchange that went something like this:
"You turned twenty two didn't you?"
"Yup, I'm getting old."
"Yeah. It's about time you got a boyfriend."
I thought it was kind of funny that those two phone calls pretty much captured the beliefs upon which the two factions of my family are built. My father's side, the traditional fundamentalists who preach and judge at every turn, and my mother's, the keepers of the proverbial family home, that lives and let's live and who have always been proud of me.
I find this obsession with my love life rather amusing. It is true that I am the only singleton left in the family and perhaps this makes me somewhat of a novelty, but they're all so invested in it, it's utterly hilarious. Especially seeing as I have very little regard for it myself. I mean honestly, what part of I don't want one is so hard to understand? Maybe one day someone will come along and change my mind, but I'm not looking, and I am not stringing along some poor fool just because he's available. It's not fair. If he wants to settle down, he should have a fair shot at it, I'm not going to hold him back. No matter how long you hang around thinking you can wear me down, I promise you, you can't. You don't want to be the Millhouse to my Lisa. You're better than that, you deserve better than that. I'm stubborn, I absolutely never compromise on what I believe. Most importantly, I am happy. Hell, I'm proud of that.
Though my grandfather probably only asks because he hasn't heard the lesbian rumour yet...or perhaps because he has and he's merely testing out the waters. In case you're wondering how that one got started, other than the fact that I'm yet to bring a boy "home", I give you two words - my parents. So tired were they of fielding the very same question when family members decided it was no longer socially acceptable to press the issue with me personally, they thought this was both the easiest and most amusing way out. Ah family, who needs soap operas?
Meanwhile, in the land of everyday existence where sleep continues to avoid me and I stumble through booked-out work days, I went to see Zombieland with Sam tonight. It is both gross - cracking bones, trailing innards, gushing blood and regurgitating zombies - and utterly hilarious. We're supposed to see Avatar next, which I'm a bit iffy about - hey, blue people - but it's one of those you should see this season, so what the hell. Tomorrow night, it's dinner and shenanigans with Roze and co. We're celebrating Em's ascent to gainful full-time employment actually relevant to her degree (A proper job! What madness!) as well as jealously toasting Roze's departure to the lovely shores of the United Kingdom. I can fit in her bag, I know, I've checked.
Music: Only the songs in my head