Thursday, July 7, 2011
Ok, "bit of a funk" is a "bit of an understatement". It's like each day is punctuated with the realization of another loss. Every newly discovered gray hair pulls me a little deeper into the pit of despair where I wallow in procrastination and ambivalence about life. I reached a new low today while watching an episode of The Doctors. I had just finished eating a slice of pizza when I learned that I'm at the age where my lady parts are going to start drying out and sagging. Exact words: DRYING OUT and SAGGING.
Oh. My. Gosh. Really? Drying out and sagging? It's going to be like witnessing the yummiest cupcake ever created grow mold and go nasty before anyone gets the pleasure of licking the frosting off.
It totally brought me to tears and I did what any self loathing female would do...I ate 5 more slices of pizza and wallowed in despair about the fact that I can't stop time or gravity from wreaking havoc on my life or my private parts.
Then I found out another guy I dated way back when is gay...I think that brings the grand total of "gay guys Carrie has dated" to seven. SEVEN.
What woman wants to live a lonely life with a saggy vag and a history of relationships with guys who really always preferred other guys?
See where this funk is going?
I finally dragged my ass off the couch around 9:30 this evening and went for a walk. While taking in and fully appreciating the beauty of the fireflies I started to think about life and God and what that final "Carrie, I'm sending you to earth" conversation was like. This is how I imagine it went:
God: "All right little lady, your time has come, I'm sending you to earth."
Me: "Fawesome! Where am I going? France? Oui, oui, oui?"
God: chuckling, "ohhhh, dear child. No. You're going to Idaho."
Me: "Oh, well that will be cool...they grow potatoes there don't they?"
God: "And I'm going to make you tall so you can reach things off of the top shelf."
Me: "Boo-yah! Hear that shorties? I'm going to be TALL!"
God: "But I'm also going to make you fat."
Me: "Oh, well that can't be that bad...can it?"
God: "And you're going to have depression."
Me: "I have no idea what that is but I think I can handle it."
God: "And your going to serve a mission when you're 21."
Me: "Sweet ass! Preachin' the word. Bringing souls to Christ. Whose got Jesus? You got Jesus?"
-I'm pretty sure I gave God a high five at this point-
God: "And uh, you're going to be single a really, really, really long time. BUT you'll be educated."
Me: doing some air punches and kicks, "Ain't no thang. This whole earth this is pretty short anyway, right? I mean..."
God: "Op, looks like it's time for you leave. Good luck."
-end of conversation-
What He failed to say was that being a 30-something single Mormon girl was totally going to blow. I doubt there was a, "and you're going to cry every Sunday when you realize you're the only woman at church your age without kids". And He probably didn't say, "some days the loneliness will feel so overwhelming you're going to feel like imploding, but don't worry, I won't let you". And something tells me there wasn't a "and your lady parts are going to melt off like the Nazis' faces in Indiana Jones Raiders of the Lost Ark and eventually the rest of you will melt off too and then you'll be too ugly to look at and the only guys who will date you will be the guys who are really just using you to cover up the fact that they're in love with other guys".
I'm sure there was some anecdotal statements about "finding joy in the journey" and "embracing the trials" and "letting your light shine" and "all in my time", blah, blah, blah, blah. NONE of which are going to make 35 seem any less torturous.
I think this is the point where people give up the good fight and just start drinking.
Posted by Carrie at 9:58 PM