Run. Run now while you still can. Before you fall victim to the rapid fire of my questions. Because this is going to be bad. I can tell. I don't even have the questions yet. So when they do come, they're bound to hurt.
See, this weekend, one of my friends was over from Scotland to celebrate her 30th birthday.
OK, that's all the background you'll ever need. Oh no, wait. She's a friend from Scotland, so, as we ascertained over lunch, we've known each other for 12 years now. Don't know how she could hold that long. I certainly would have taken the first opportunity to sever all ties with me. Anyway. She didn't. Her fault, her loss, her problem, right? Twelve years of unfaltering friendship despite my legendary lack of letter-writing skills. I'm clinging to her like a mussel to its rock. Yes, to you too, Lilith.
We met in the halls of residence, probably in an advanced state of either giggling like crazy schoolgirls or ebriety. Is that a word? I've decided against looking it up. I was already mad, she was already noticeably less mad than me.
Sunday, the cold decidedly set in in Paris. What's that? Yes, there is a connection. I'm mad, not delirious. So, as it was cold, we went for more alcohol, because we might as well and it's a well-known fact that alcohol is the best cure against cold. Right? Well then. As we were coming out of the bar pub thingy place, she said "oh, I'll wear my new gloves". And got brown suede gloves out of her bag. "Ooh, very ladylike", said I. Now. This was her reply. "Well, Anne, I'm 30 now, it's time I started to act ladylike."
3. 2. 1. 0. Ignition.
You know where this is going, don't you? You're scared, now, aren't you? You know what kind of questions those are going to be, right?
I'm 32. I'm not a lady, probably never will be. Is that really bad? How long can I get away with pretending to be a teenager? Is it OK that all around me, people are "evolving", and I seem to be stuck where I was 12 years ago? Will I ever win the lottery? And when should I really start worrying that I might never have children, all the while refusing adamantly to play babysitter to my friends' children?
OK, one last for the road. This is the latest keyword search that landed on my site. This is where they landed. Oi, you, come back! How did you really get here???