Am I a mid-single????!!! I'm 31 and apparently in mormon land, I'm no longer fit for Young Single Adult consumption and have been thrown into the murky waters of the Single Adult Program which Nichole just reminded me does have an age cut off: DEATH. I already kind of knew all about this because of my calling in Korea as the single adult rep for the entire english speaking world in the ROK, but I didn't really understand what it meant for me until tonight when I accidently attended my first American SA dance...technically, I was only there to assist with the dessert but then they broke out some Bon Jovi and a couple of Beyonce bootie shakers and suddenly I was an attendee.
Yes. It was revelatory.
The weirdest part (and please forgive me for venting) was that there was one guy, one really good looking guy there. He was THAT GUY...you know, tight fitted black button down with some sort of necklace and those designer jeans that have the gay (it's ok, I have gay friends and they would agree) pockets with embroidery on the butt. And he was checking me out all night. At first I decided to smile at him, mostly because I was enjoying the fact that for ONCE IN MY LIFE, I was the young biscuit at a church dance. I was tempted to pull out my gum and twirl it around on my finger and go flat iron my hair ril quick in the bathroom. It was almost as exciting as that moment when the 50 something woman came huffing into the kitchen and told us we needed to find the police NOW! because something was going down. (the something going down was apparently her ex-husband trying to register for the dance at the makeshift welcome table in the foyer).
But back to me...so TG is making regular eye contact in between his usual bouts of body rubbing with girls named Ginger and Stacey who are wearing the girl version (ha!) of the gay jeans. And then I started to get kind of angry. Not because of Ginger and Stacey, but because I realize that this joker is the kind of guy who NEVER WOULD HAVE LOOKED AT ME TWICE 65.2 pounds ago. And I was the same girl, damnit! I was just as effervescent! Just as interesting! and now, Angry! Justifiably Annoyed! Righteous! Anger!
So I get home from said dance without ever speaking to TG and I tell my longsuffering brother about the encounter. And do you know what he said?????? Not a loving, "of course, dear sister, men are scum. You are righteously angered. I apologize like Obama for the whole of guydom." no. No. this is what he had to say:
"WAIT. You are NOT allowed to get angry at some guy you've never met, who never knew you and never did anything to you except pay you some attention. "
"But!" I say, "He would have!! He would have!! I know that type and his jeans!"
"No, no." Says wise younger brother. "don't be THAT GIRL. Yes, I'm sure his jeans were terrible, but you've got to get over this need to be righteously angry at and make snap judgements about, I REPEAT, men you've never met who've never done anything to you except think you're cute. You'll turn into a weird bitter undateable hag. That is all. Now away with you to your computer to blog it all out."
And so, dear reader, you can see that I am certainly a mid-single with just as much baggage as the divorced ex-husband hater mentioned above. And as such I am going to try very hard to take my younger brother's advice and not be THAT GIRL. And I'm sorry Ginger and Stacey...I'm sure we'll be best friends at the next dance. (rilly).