As I turned left onto Brand, a bittersweet feeling rushed all over me. When it comes to visiting the family in Glendale, I tend to avoid it as much as possible. Glendale for me has become that cage I fear so much of getting trapped in. After making my escape three years ago, I promised myself that I would never go back.
It’s strange visiting the city I was born and raised in. Though little has changed on my block, the whole city has undergone a hyper expensive facelift. I had plans to meet up with my dad for lunch at the highly commercialized Americana; one of those newly built theme parks for adults with bank accounts. While I made my way through the designer stores, I came to realize that strollers were the new handbags of Glendale. I looked around fascinated by the numerous young couples that were past the courting stage and well into investing in diapers. The wives all looked in their early 20’s while the husbands no more than their mid 20’s; yet they had managed to get married, have children, and somehow afford the urban leisurely lifestyle that would be found in a Seurat painting. I couldn’t help but wonder if these girls were just settling or if they had really found the one. Didn’t they wonder or yearn to find out what else was out there?
At times I am made to feel like an Old Maid for not being in a potential relationship, but when confronted by old classmates who are already married with kids, I feel like a 12 year old, still crushing on inappropriate boys. How can I even think about getting married or having kids when I get more excited over a sale at Sak’s than a chubby baby dressed like fruit.
Making my way through the rows of strollers, I found my dad waiting for me with his impatient smile. I hadn’t seen the old man for over 3 weeks now and I was slowly starting to miss him. As we made our way through our first round of sushi, my father’s questions about my personal life began. A couple of years ago, if anyone were to tell me that I would be able to have a conversation with my father over lunch about something other than the Lakers or his job, I would have laughed it off and thought it was just wishful thinking. The relationship that I have with my father has been a slow and gradual process. Growing up I rarely spent time with him, he was either busy working or I was too involved with my life to care. Nonetheless, I found having a relationship with him gave me a sense of comfort. By the time I consumed my tuna roll, I somehow managed to give him a very abridged story about Bond.
Patiently waiting for the ridicule and criticism I thought was forthcoming, my father said, “Honey, I’m not going to like any man that you bring home, it’s my job not to like them. It is my job; however, to learn to like him. You’re the one that is going to be with him. You’re the one that is going to be with him behind closed doors, not me.”
Though my father had opened himself up to the possibility, I knew it was only a baby step forward. I couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter what, he really just wanted me to be happy. After lunch, I decided to venture off and discover all the quant shops while melting some plastic. As I was rummaging through H&M, I saw a former classmate with a short balding man, and a little baby in her arms. After a couple of minutes of conversing and catching up, she noticed that the only thing weighing me down was my one too many shopping bags and no engagement ring. At that moment I felt like I had been side slapped. Why did it matter if I was taken or not? Before heading out, she placed her hand on my elbow, tilted her head and said, “You’ll find him. He is out there.” What I really wanted to tell her was, “Honey I meet a man every night. I never know when or who my next great lay is!” But instead, I took the lowest of the low roads and nodded with agreement hoping that I meet him before becoming a stale 25 year old. As I watched her walk out, I thanked my lucky stars for not settling and I realized that the look was more envy than pity.
Because when you think about it, there are so many benefits of being single. Such as not shaving my legs for weeks, vacations with the girls, time to focus on what I want, and most importantly, having the freedom to make future plans without considering another person. But why does everyone feel like marriage and children are the only things we have to look forward to? Why the rush? My biological clock is not ticking, none of my body parts are sagging, my luck of meeting men is definitely not running out, yet somehow, I am left with the impression that I should be making coffee for my in-laws instead of making coffee for my hangovers. Why is everyone in such a hurry to settle? Since when did we go from “Don’t ever settle for anything less” to “Settle down before you become too picky and you have no more options”?
Within five years of dating I have been placed in the marrying situation twice. At nineteen, I started dating my first real boyfriend. He was thirty, tall, successful, and dying to have a wife. He was trying to find his happily ever after, while I was trying to get my once upon a time. I thought at that time that this was love. It wasn’t until the wedding of my older brother that I realized; I have not found what I am looking for. Later it was Preppy, he had managed to map out a life that would have made me into a Stepford wife. In the end, I knew, that neither one was meant to last. I know that I am not the person to say, “yes, but only until someone better comes along.” I want this partnership to be forever. I want to take those vows and mean them, knowing that I do not want any other person to grow old with.
Later on that evening, after I washed off the smell of cigarettes out of my hair, and digested the rude faux awakening that I was “single,” I received a call from Bond who was out skiing in Colorado with the boys. I came to realize that if I had settled, I would not have been the person that I am today. I would not have met Bond, I would not have lived in my own apartment, I would not have traveled, I would not have been unsure of where I am going to end up. And that was the beauty of it all. At times I wish I could settle, just to make things a little easier, but when you know what’s out there, when you know what the prospectives are, when you get a taste of delight, settling is never a option.
Posted by Armenian Chronicles at 4:59 PM 0 comments
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 2009
No comments:
Post a Comment