Pressure Cooker

Oh joy.
It's starting to happen.
The pressure is really beginning to build up now.
I'm still young enough to get away with it, but just barely.
I must have some time-bomb hanging from my neck that is visible to everyone but me.
And my time is dangerously close to running out.
Tick tick tick.

Aunt: So, don't you have a boyfriend yet?
Me: Boyfriend? Uh...no. You asked me on Friday. Not much has changed since then.
Aunt: *sigh*. I know this guy who...
Me: No thanks, really, that’s ok. It's just not one of my priorities at the moment [and could we please never have this conversation again. At least not until next week].

This little chitchat was followed by a brief shake of the head by my auntie dearest, spilling forth gallons of empathy, all without actually saying a word.

I'm surrounded by people bursting out of their skins to remedy my "situation". I feel like i should be the main attraction of some freakshow where all the little kiddies come to watch me and giggle and whisper to each other "There she is! Ooooh. Look at her, look at her! I heard she's SINGLE!!", then the mommy goes "it's not polite to point. Not too close kids, I dont want you catching it."

Ok, maybe i got a little carried away... but hey, did no one watch Sex and the City? Single is the new couple. For the umpteenth time, I do not want to be set up. But thank you. Now go away.

Through my magic crystal ball - the Revealer of the Future That Never Lies, I see my dad calling an emergency extended family meeting to get to the bottom of my "problem". Because apparently it is a problem. Unheard of quite clearly. A disease that must be cured lest my siblings catch it and be cast out of society for their nonconformance. How could it be that his pride and joy will not be cookie-cut into another 30-something housewifey SUV-driving suburban mom surrounded by kid snot? Sacrilegious.

In another 3-4 years I'll start hearing whispers in the wind about...dare I even say it.... an arranged marriage, probably suffixed by "if anyone would have her". I swear that’s the day you'll watch a story on CNN about a psychotic woman somewhere in Africa who impaled her parents with a ruler.

Methinks Coming Out Day is pretty damn close. Or at least, Leave Me the Fuck Alone Day.

Honestly I wouldn’t actually mind having a Mini-Me. I wouldn’t mind having a girlfriend either. In fact that would be awesome. Gees, I wonder how my parents would react if i came out. Even my progressive, worldly Aunt might still pop a vein. Maybe i need to stop worrying.

Maybe i need to stop rambling now and go back to work.

********
On a completely unrelated note: Damn, I wish I could use chopsticks. I cannot for the life of me understand how you can eat rice with those things. I nearly skewered my eyes during supper yesterday. Those things are dangerous, a hazard to society I tell ya. No one seems to notice that in my hands they are the real Weapons of Mass Destruction. They should at least come with a warning consumer label for some us, the less bright sparks, along the lines of: "If you eat while wildly flapping around like a conductor on crack you stand a good chance of losing an eye or two".

*******

I'm starvin.
I'm going to go reload, come back, and pretend to work some more.
Steve call me. Now dammit.