ExCUSE me?
I kind of like the timing on this, purely for the... is irony the word I want here?
Anyway.
Shortly before I wandered off to class, I was talking to the guy next to me, Simon. Simon found out that I'm going to be twenty-four in ten days. His reaction is probably one of the most infuriating, insulting things I have ever been told in my life.
Ladies on my Flist, I'm sure you know exactly what I mean.
He told me that I needed to hurry up and find a man while I'm "still young and cute", that I needed to settle down and have kids or else I'd end up an old lady with ninety-nine cats.
I laughed it off, saying that, y'know, I didn't really see where the problem was, that I'd be out on the porch with a shotgun demanding that those damn kids get off my lawn.
I think he could see how pissed off I was, though, because he started backpedalling faster than Kanye West after the VMAs.
Now. I've made jokes about almost being on the shelf. I've cracked jokes about Christmas Cake. However, in other cultures - the Regency period, Japan - they are true.
I wasted three years of high school pining for a boyfriend - not for any one person, but for the idea, for the concept of a boyfriend. God, I was a stupid little fuck then. When I finally got to college, I decided that I was my own woman, and that I didn't need to define myself by my relationship status.
I'm a lot happier now, and while I have had a couple boyfriends since making that decision, the relationships were low-key and invariably ended in mutual break-ups. I've been single for about three years now, and I'm quite happy thus.
My body.
My life.
My choice.
Fuck off, Simon.
Try that talk again and I will slap you so hard your great-grandfather will feel it.
For those of you wondering, the irony in this situation is that this conversation happened immediately before I went to my Women in Western Civilisation class.
Timing, y'all. Timing.
Anyway.
Shortly before I wandered off to class, I was talking to the guy next to me, Simon. Simon found out that I'm going to be twenty-four in ten days. His reaction is probably one of the most infuriating, insulting things I have ever been told in my life.
Ladies on my Flist, I'm sure you know exactly what I mean.
He told me that I needed to hurry up and find a man while I'm "still young and cute", that I needed to settle down and have kids or else I'd end up an old lady with ninety-nine cats.
I laughed it off, saying that, y'know, I didn't really see where the problem was, that I'd be out on the porch with a shotgun demanding that those damn kids get off my lawn.
I think he could see how pissed off I was, though, because he started backpedalling faster than Kanye West after the VMAs.
Now. I've made jokes about almost being on the shelf. I've cracked jokes about Christmas Cake. However, in other cultures - the Regency period, Japan - they are true.
I wasted three years of high school pining for a boyfriend - not for any one person, but for the idea, for the concept of a boyfriend. God, I was a stupid little fuck then. When I finally got to college, I decided that I was my own woman, and that I didn't need to define myself by my relationship status.
I'm a lot happier now, and while I have had a couple boyfriends since making that decision, the relationships were low-key and invariably ended in mutual break-ups. I've been single for about three years now, and I'm quite happy thus.
My body.
My life.
My choice.
Fuck off, Simon.
Try that talk again and I will slap you so hard your great-grandfather will feel it.
For those of you wondering, the irony in this situation is that this conversation happened immediately before I went to my Women in Western Civilisation class.
Timing, y'all. Timing.