I attended the wedding of a friend of a friend tonight. Generally speaking, weddings are joyous events. People dress up, smile pretty for the camera, celebrate the union of two lucky and loving individuals, get some free swag and head home. However, when the wedding attended is for individuals that are complete and total strangers, the gaiety of the evening loses some of its radiance; especially when the individual who brought you as their auxiliary “plus one” is slightly intoxicated, moderately loud, and exceedingly vocal about her single status/desire to be married/the fact that she is not drunk. For occasions such as these I recommend indulging in alcohol and finding someone cute who tickles your fancy. Unfortunately for me, all the cuties were outside parking the cars. Le sigh.
I stand, trembling, naked. Timidly, I view my newest conquest. I try not to make eye contact with myself in the mirror as I begin to take action. I’ve been stalling the event; postponing it by lingering in front of the mirror; by fiddling with my hair. I’m anxious. I want this, yet I don’t. I’m afraid I’ll be disappointed. I’m afraid it might not work. I’ll feel a pinch and my entire mood will be shot. I take a steadying breath of resolve. My fingers twitch as my body is enveloped. It’s a little tight, but it fits. The dress in my closet that I’ve been eying askance since I purchased it a month ago fits. I felt euphoric as the zipper slid shut. It was wonderful. I haven’t felt this satisfied with my body in quite a while. Does this make me a cliche American female? Possibly. Do I give a fuck right now? Not. At. All.
There are some nights in our young lives that are filled with regrets, with “I wish I hadn’t…” or “I never should have…” Tonight, however, was not one of those nights. Tonight was a night of connection with another human being. Tonight was a night of release. Tonight was a night of letting go of stress, of letting go of pressure. Tonight was a taste of freedom, and I think I might be developing a craving.
There was a completely technologically inept young woman whose dear friend suggested she create a blog of her own. On a whim the aforementioned young woman decided she would. She thought, “Why not? Everyone else is doing, and I’m less likely to contract an STD following this social trend than I am following any of the others.” Unfortunately, a small character trait made this endeavor quite difficult. In the 21st century this character trait is more of a flaw or handicap really, but is inherent in this young woman’s person. So, the young woman futzed around, staring quizzically at the computer screen trying to figure the god damned format with little to no evidence of success. All that can be done now is to hope that blog-dilemma will be figured out at some point in the not too distant future.