PickledCherub

Sunday, May 02, 2004

 

RIP Bert

Bert the bunny . . .

List of things I'm not so proud of at the moment:
*completing a personality profile on eHarmony dot com
*accidentally turning my sister's bathtub pink
*considering a low-carb diet
*not talking to Marian or Meghan in a long time
*being less than frank with Joe
*planning my escape from this horrible horrible place.

I always get so angry when I visit sister and husband. We have, between us, enough social skills for one complete asshole. This "vacation" has made me realize that 1) I never want to come here again unless I can be guaranteed a companion, either mom or someone else--anyone else to buffer me from this married in(s)anity; 2) Everywhere that isn't a city or a farm really truly bites. Ruth and Marc get really excited that they have a Target, a Best Buy, an Olive Garden (!), and a chain pseudo Caribbean restaurant. They don't have independent restaurants here, not like at home. We saw Mean Girls at the largest multiplex I've ever been in, and the theater teemed with slutty loud teenage girls. At least we got to see it with the target audience.

I know that vacation is supposed to make you realize what you love about home, but this vacation is terrifying because I know that this could be my life in ten years. I like shopping for underwear, but I just don't want shopping to be my main activity besides work. Exercise is good, health is good, but I don't want to be obsessed with every goddam thing I put in my mouth, and how long I'm going to need to be at the gym the next day. It's important to have a comfortable living environment, but I don't need to live in a gigantic space, with an enormous television and an obsession with stuff. Catalogue, department store, everybody has it stuff. (And I like some stuff, I like stuff, I do, but not in this way.)

As I write this I am aware of the underlying battles: bourgeois V. avant-garde; urban V. suburban; "X" V. "Y" and so on. And I hate that I could fall into this life. Well, probably not, because without an advanced degree and an obsessive work ethic, I don't think I'll ever make as much money as R&M. And, I want to have children, and that imposes a whole new set of priorities and values into one's life. R&M can barely manage having a small dog. Cosmo impinges too much already on their routines.

Some people are afraid that they'll turn into their mother. God I am such a bitch. Is it because I have been denied carbs here? Is it because I haven't been smoking? I'm going to break into their liquor cabinet and get wiggledy wasted.


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