8.11.2008

Most.Beautiful.Day.Ever.

Today. In the Salty Lake. Jeebus. I went outside at lunch and just wanted to start running to somewhere, anywhere, far far away from the Gallivan courtyard, and leap and skip and smell flowers and never stop. And now I'm back in the fluorescent box, trapped smack in the middle of a zillion floors of stacked fluorescent boxes. Why are there never windows that open? What the hell is wrong with designers and architects? Do they really think it is healthy for all of us to spend 40 hours every single week in a box with NO FRESH AIR? At what point did we as a society decide that fresh air was not important, or not conducive to productivity? And at what point did we decide that our good old American work ethic meant spending eight (for those of us who are lucky enough to ONLY have to work 8) hours of, say, 16 waking hours, working? In closed up boxes? Breathing recycled air and everyone else's germs? And I work in a pretty swank spot with fantastic views and lovely blond woodwork and the like. But the windows still don't open. And that really is the one major ingredient in my always-simmering stew of feeling trapped.


But that's not really what I came here to write at all, actually. Although I'm not sure what I came to write exactly. I have so many stories from my wedding weekend in St. Louis, and my following wedding weekend in Salt Lake. Three weddings in one week - a record for moi. Has made me a bit glum, actually, as I reflect on the fact that of all the boyfriends I've had, serious and not-so-serious, I have never once come close to feeling like I could marry a one of them. Never. Felt that way for a bit with the most-recent-ex, but upon moving in together quickly realized the trainwreck a marriage would be and thus gave up on the idea entirely. I'm not terrified of being a lonely spinster or any such nonsense they tend to pound into young women's brains in the Utah environs (Don't worry Michelle, you're still young and cute. You don't even look your age. Still young enough to have more children too. - this is the bullshit some co-workers & neighbors said to me after leaving the boyfriend, in an attempt, I suppose, to assuage my sadness. Thanks assholes. But no thanks.), but the whole idea of being that in love with someone, of it being that right, just seems about a thousand light years away. At all three of the weddings I went to, I saw how wildly full of love the grooms were for their brides, how proud to be committing to a life together, how amazingly, soul-wrenchingly happy they were.


And that makes me happy. Happy for these friends of mine, happy that there is more love being made in the world, being poured out into the energetic fabric of our time. As war rages on in Afghanistan, Iraq, Sudan, Georgia, god knows we need it. So I'm not quite sure from where my personal ennui springs... maybe just that I'd like someone to look at me like that someday.


Correction: I'd like someone that I am crazy about to look at me like that someday, and return his loving gaze in equal measure. Because for christssakes I don't need any more unrequited crazies gazing longingly in my direction, or any more mullet-crowned men's unsolicited advances, or any more weird stalkers. I'm sorry, but just because I made out with you once does not mean I want to talk to you again. I'm not quite sure in this 21st century where all of the confusion lies. I do know that I receive a lot of attention that I do not want. And very little attention that I do.


So perhaps the crazy-cat-lady life awaits me after all. At least I'll get to sit on park benches and poke people with my cane.

2 comments:

MUG said...

Oh darling - you are so far from being the crazy cat lady (though I would make sure, at the very least, that your cane had a marble or pearl handle, swanky). Honestly, I think anyone who has been to the land of "loving gaze" will tell you, that that dude came along when it was least warranted or expected. But, in the mean time, I am going to get you some mace for those mulleted men and stalkers. Love you!

Anonymous said...

there's lots of requited, non crazy love out there- you'll find it!