Nothing's gonna change my world.....

I recently spent a week back east, visiting my family.  In the 12 years I've lived in Colorado, I've found myself making the journey back "home" at least once a year for either a wedding, a reunion, or most recently, a burning desire to see my precious nephews, whose childhoods I am completely missing out on because I live so far away.  


Although I love my family and friends and it's always wonderful to see them, the last few times I've visited I end up feeling so sad and miserable by the third day, I can't wait to leave.  It's difficult to pinpoint exactly why, though I think it's becoming clearer.  It's as though everything there has changed, yet nothing has changed and I'm caught somewhere in the middle.  


When I am in Colorado, living my life, I am generally happy.  I have friends and interests and goals and I don't question every life choice I've ever made.  Then I go there.  Suddenly, I'm seeing people I knew a hundred years ago, and while they are still living in the same area where we grew up and in some cases, are working the same jobs, they've gotten married, bought houses and had babies.  I tried my hand at this "normal", grown-up type of life, but it didn't stick.  So now, after years of always feeling so mature, I instead feel like a confused teenager being pressured to evaluate my life and make decisions I don't feel equipped to make. 


Another thing about the area where I grew up?  Babies.  Babies as far as the eye can see.  I swear it's something in the water.  Every time I turn around, someone else is preggo.  And here's the thing about babies.... unless you have one of your own, you will soon find that you have absolutely nothing to talk about with those that do.  It's all breast-feeding and stretchmarks; daycare and poo.  I'm interested in these things to an extent due to my naturally morbid curiosity about all things gross/unfamiliar.  However, I can guarantee they don't give a rip about the new cocktail I created at work, or my most recent trip to Vegas.  They say things like:  "We're about to refinance our mortgage at a really great rate!" and "Our youngest just said his first words!".  
Meanwhile, I'm like:  "Yeah, my boyfriend's in a death metal band....."  


When I sit back and take all this in, it once again makes me question what I want or don't want.  I'm pretty sure I don't want to be 60 years old at my child's high school graduation because I waited for the "perfect" time/guy.  Nor do I want to be one of those chics that gets knocked up accidentally/on purpose with any old dude that happens to swing by on ovulation day just because the clock is ticking.  


Rock------Me------Hard place.

I'm smiling next to you, in silent lucidity....

I am beat.  I had forgotten how much work it is to be a "girlfriend".  From the "doing stuff together", to the "talking about your day", to the "having sex all the time"... it's exhausting.  Plus, even if you aren't living together, you typically end up spending so much time together that it feels like you are.  As a solitary person by nature, this is my biggest hurdle.


Over the last few years, I've become accustomed to a certain lifestyle and routine, nerdy and loner-ish as it may be.  I enjoy listening to NPR morning edition while I get ready for work.  I can read or busy myself with seemingly mundane tasks like reorganizing my linen closet for hours on end and be perfectly content.  And if we're being honest, I like being alone so I can burp, fart, talk to myself or take an un-self-conscious poop with the bathroom door open.  It's the little things...


As anyone who knows me can attest, I have an uncanny gift for/annoying habit of comparing any life situation to an episode of either Friends or Sex and the City.  I'm sort of like a Trekky, but with less pasty skin and better fashion sense.  Recently, I was reminded of the episode of SatC, when Aiden moved in with Carrie and she started going crazy due to his constant presence and barrage of questions as soon as she walked in the door: "Where you been?"  "Who'd you see?"  "What'dya know?"  I feel your pain, Carrie.


I try to tell myself to be less rigid and more open.  I've gotten a little better over time, but what it comes down to is, I spend the majority of my life listening to other people's problems and drama due to my chosen line of work.  Bartenders are basically underpaid shrinks without the luxury of a comfy leather chair and climate-controlled office.  That being said, I don't think it's selfish to want silence and solitude, at least sometimes, during my off hours.  The irony of course being, my Ex talked more than an auctioneer on speed and my Current also very much enjoys the sound of his own voice.   I think it would behoove me to marry either a deaf/mute or a long-haul trucker...