Before Christmas I had the good fortune to hang out with some friends from university, four gorgeous shoe designers and one artist. We hadn't all been in the same place for about 3 years, so much excitement ensued, and the cocktails kept coming. Fifi came home from Italy so it was a treat to see her in real life, although her emails are the best ever.
Afterwards we all exchanged emails and which blogs we read so we could share. I say, 'we' everyone else did - I was distracted by 2 emergency operations my Mum ended up needing in December (she is doing much better now) but when I had time to give it some thought I realised I was too shy to share my beloved blogs with my friends. I have the blog habits of a mid 30s mom, of someone who owns a car, probably a house too, and is married and shops for kitchen items.
I can't drive even drive yet.
Everything I read online is related to either a) recipes
b) babies/parenthood c) People magazine online (shhhhhhh!) d) the news e) more recipes f) fantasy shopping.
I seem to have completely skipped the 21st century stage where you use the internet to aid finding someone to have a baby with. I thought my real life had that figured out for me, then when it turned out it hadn't yet, my Dad looked at me with half sympathy, half amusement 'I can't imagine having to date!' he said, with a smirk. Tell me about it.
I never used to shy away from the idea of dating. Your next boyfriend is not coming to your house to find you. He better not. You don't want to date a stalker do you?! I always made an effort to meet people if I felt like meeting people (even if it meant going to salsa classes alone when I first moved to London) and it always worked, even if I had to meet leather clad snake-hipped salsa instructors to do so.
Right now meeting new people is wholly unappealing. I have managed to scare up half an interest in Mr.Engineer because he literally walks by me every day, smiling cutely and saying hello in a vaguely interesting accent. Actually making an effort to date does not hold as much fascination for me as doodling all my clothes and creating new outfit combinations. You wouldn't believe the amount of money I have felt obliged to squander on clothes now that I don't need to visit Nugget anymore, after a year and a half of saving every spare penny for flights 6000 miles away....I now have shiny new boots, sky high heels and an array of silky things that are waiting patiently for me to put them on and go somewhere.
In some ways then, I am prematurely aged especially for my responsibility level (i.e. pretty low right now, for example, my friend Shak just asked me to go to Paris with him for dinner the week after next and it involves very little preparation, I booked it before I mentioned it to my work or my family.) Then in some ways, I realise that here in suburbia I have been left behind. In the big city (in any of the 3 big cities I have recently lived in) I am still one of the youngest out of my friends, and living out of a (very large and cumbersome) suitcase was not considered weird. I have mixed feelings about the pasta machine my Mum gave me last Christmas - I still haven't used it. I think I resent it because to is SO heavy, and therefore, not portable like the rest of my life.
In the suburbs this lifestyle of mine IS kind of weird. Most of my friends do not live here anymore, in the town where we grew up. Those that do have children. One girl I have known since playschool now lives in a house in the street I used to babysit in.
Even though it freaks me out living here with my family among people who seem light years ahead of me, I still feel pretty lucky to be doing whatever I want for a little time longer. That includes plucking my eyebrows for 20 minutes at a time, writing lengthy blog posts about ME and drawing my outfit selections for random weekends in Paris, things I know I will not have time for when I finally have my own little family.
I can't wait to shop for pretty tea cups though.
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