So, I can't believe you know! That I am thirty and single..gasp! I'm not going to be one of those girls who go around saying "It's awesome" and "everyone else will be getting divorced when I get married" because that isn't the truth. The truth is..it kinda makes you feel...well...singled out.
I lived in Florida for the majority of my twenties, where it is completely acceptable not to be married with kids in your twenties, but upon moving back to Pittsburgh, I got a big dose of reality or pseudo-reality. Everyone, and I mean, everyone, is married and beginning to have babies. It may be true that some day I will find it vindicating if some friends (in other words the ones who shoved their happiness down my throat, or ignore your birthdays because they are so busy with their children) are going through their divorce when I am blissfully walking down the aisle, but as for now I am a slightly bitter Betty.
Granted, I took some time off of trying to live happily ever after with the "one" because in Florida staying youthful means not picking your children up from daycare while juggling laundry lists, bills and the other life necessities of a "mommy". Instead it meant, hopping on the biggest boat you could find, basking in the sunlight by the beach, wearing the most fabulous clothing while getting to know an interesting array of people. Yes, it was awful.
But...sigh...there comes a time when you decide to hang up the bikini and move to a place that you consider has a great education system, cheap housing and ample yards while sadly dragging your Shark Steam mop behind you. Not that I don't love being home and having scintillating conversation that doesn't involve the value of a car, the expense of a house and how awesome your weekend was in Miami.
So, here I am, thirty and single and living in the Burgh. Wish me luck.
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