damn you myspace!

Last night I had a dream.  Actually, it was slightly nightmare-ish and left me feeling immature and stunted in terms of personal growth.  In this dream, I was with old friends/people from the high school/college era of my short life.  I was telling them all the good things in my life, about how I have the Man and how he’s great.  They told me they were married, or already divorced.  I told them I had the Rabid Beast, a new addition to my life, and I love him despite his regular violent attacks.  They had newborn babies and toddlers and even a few had kinds that elementary age.  It made me feel very juvenile.  I slunk of frowning, vowing to get married have babies and trump them in life.

Low and behold, this morning I had TWO myspace friend requests.  Damn you myspace!  Both were from my old high school.  One is married (over 5 years!) and just had a baby.  By the way, the baby is hideous.  The other was a good friend of mine, he’s married.  Sweet.  Since when did Seattle become bum-fuck backwards Alabama, where everyone decides 22 is over the hill and therefore secures a bride/bridegroom?  At that age, all your really securing is a person to torture with you adolescence as you grow out of the relationship, becoming depressed and resentful that you’re tied to this person while still paying off the debt from your ambitious (and undoubtedly tacky) wedding, realizing it’s easier to stay with them than it is to divorce and start over.  As a divorcee.  BLAST!

Despite knowing I am more the wiser for NOT being married with kids, it still makes me feel like somehow I missed the Grown-Up Train to Adult-ville.  In terms of generally accepted points of growth and accomplishment, it looks like I’ve grown little and accomplished nothing.  They’ve attained a perceived level of adult-hood that I haven’t reached.  And as a highly competitive person who’s life motto is “Anything you can do I can do better,” I have the uncurable desire to bear better, more beautiful and smarter child that would bully theirs and win Spelling Bees every day.  That’s coupled with the nagging aspiration to have a devoted spouse that is handsomer and genius that knows more about everything than their spouses do.  We’d ride around in our Prius’ with bumper stickers that say “My Reproductive Gene Pool is Better than Yours.”  Or “My Offspring are Cooler, Smarter and More Beautiful than your Hideous Trolls.”  Shallow?  Perhaps.  True?  Absolutely.

Damn you myspace.  Luckily, it’s only a temporary lapse into insanity.  Although my ‘accomplishments’ aren’t of the marital and children-bearing kind, I do have others.  While they are worrying about paying for an inflated adjustable rate mortgage on a single salary because they just had a kid and the mom’s on maternity leave, I’m worrying about which Starbucks I’m going to go to when it’s comes time to purchase my overpriced espresso drink.