Friday, January 21, 2011

a case of boys and women....

Yesterday was weird. I was at work, trying to actually do work. But that's not the weird part. For most of January, my office has been completely empty. With most of the faculty on vacation or on winter session trips abroad (India and Bangladesh), NYU becomes a ghost town. I don't really mind it at all. A little solitude works for me. I play my youtube playlist, eat my homemade lunch, and gchat for the majority of the day. The only sour note is when one of my several stalkers come to visit (I'm referring to you, Mailman, who has decided to call me "Love" and "Sweetie" and the lesbian security guard who mistakes my politeness as a desire to get it on). But yesterday, people decided to show up.
            Now one the graduate students in the program, Cindy, came to meet with one of the professors. Cindy is chill, a little too bubbly for my distinct taste, but has a good heart and doesn't tolerate bullshit. Cindy is a young, attractive, smart blonde who desires to be married by 30. She's basically the Elle Woods of NYU Graduate scene. She's from the Midwest and has certain ideals about love, relationships, and marriage. She wants the whole package and is tired of New York boys (And yes all males in New York are boys. Men are a very rare species here).  She's constantly complaining that all the guys she goes out with are douche bags and the ones that like her, she doesn't feel any physical attraction for. I understand that this must be aggravating, but I can't really offer any solace. I was raised in the NYC dating fiasco. No one in New York wants a real relationship. We juggle several people at once and are striving to succeed at our careers. A lot of the time we put intimacy on the back burner--especially the men here. They don't have a biological clock. When they're ready to settle down (at around age 40), they'll hook up with a young, ripe, 22 year old (like me!). This seems to infuriate Cindy, and I don't blame her. But we can't change society.
        Look at The Millionaire Matchmaker. Several of my friends received casting emails to be on the show. No one I knew actually went to the casting but six month later, I was at home, watching television, when I saw my friend Carolyn on the fucking show. It blew my fucking mind. Not only was Carolyn on the show, but she got picked to go on the super exclusive mixer date, where Patti, the show's host, only allowed four females to attend. Now it wasn't that I don't like Carolyn (I actually think she's a sweetheart), but she's only 22 years old. She just graduated college when she was picked for the show and now you want to marry her off to some 35 year old millionaire. That seems crazy to me. What would they talk about? College Bars and dorm room fires? Get the fuck out of here. I don't believe in marriage at a young age, especially when you don't know yourself sufficiently to make a decision to stay with someone for the rest of your life! What's the rush? At 22 years old, I don't think the biological clock is ticking. I don't even think there are batteries in it. So calm the fuck down, young girls. Live a little. Don't let a man put you away in a big house to keep you as a trophy. Sure you can have a sugar daddy (and if you find one, let me know if he's interested in a group rate. I have bills that need to be paid), but don't limit yourself just yet.
           Granted I'm devastated at the image of the 20 year old bride, but how will I feel when I'm the forty year old spinster with my cats. I'm not sure. Somehow in all my Gloria Steinem pride, I still envision myself getting married and having a family (but then again Gloria got married too--to Christian Bale's father). However my current actions aren't really helping that image become a reality. So I'm reminded of Cindy, who brought up the point that if you're not actively searching for Mr. Right right now, who's to blame when you don't find him? If Cindy, the prototype for all things girly can't find a man that wants to settle down with her, what hope does the ball buster, who wears oxfords and button downs have? Fuck it, I'm moving to the South. I hear there are real men out there.

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