Time Has Told Me

Ah, Facebook. I finally ponied up and got an account for no real good reason other than Adam convinced me because of its vast time-wasting properties. (“But you like to waste time on the Internet!” Maybe I should just sneeze in his ear for all of eternity. I can waste time that way, too.) Anyway, it’s been enlightening, for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is that I am clearly old, because the whole format and networking aspect to it kind of makes my eyes bleed out a little. Again, I AM OLD. And also slightly uninterested in any of its time-wasting properties other than ogling former friends, classmates and flames.

I haven’t even touched MySpace, and mark my words, I never will! I refuse!

The whole point of this is that I discovered that one of my college boyfriends (was he a boyfriend? I don’t know, it was college) is now an Evangelical pastor at one of those super-churches with a campus the size of Saskatchewan. I mean, JESUS. I didn’t see that coming. Maybe it’s … maybe it’s my fault. And another one of my former boyfriends is a smarmy sales rep in New York and STILL ANOTHER is an owner of a Jewish girl’s camp in the wilds of New England, which I know I’ve mentioned before, because it’s so SPECIFIC. Incidentally, one of the reasons I broke up with the last was not only that I wasn’t Jewish enough for his family, but I didn’t want to spend my life picking pebbles out of my ass at a remote camp. My summers would be spent in pink tents! PINK TENTS!

I KNOW I’ve brought this up before, but have you ever had those Sliding Doors moments? Those moments where you look at what could have been, had things been just a teeny bit different? If you didn’t take that train, make that choice, live in that city, go to that school, break up with that guy? I can’t help myself, once in a while, it’s fun to think about, especially when faced with life choices or any kind of crossroads. When you see something like that — the fact that, dude, I could have been a preacher’s wife or a CAMP DIRECTOR, oh my stinking heck — it makes you realize that yes, sometimes things really do always work out exactly as they’re supposed to. I mean, certainly I’m being rather presumptuous that anyone would WANT me as a preacher’s wife (my sense is that I’d have been dumped or run off before I reached that point), and that also, as alert commenter Kristin H. pointed out, sometimes when you’re in the world, you look back and see it only one way. Ergo, everything “always works out” because in a weird way, it does — at least for the life you ended up with.

I know I certainly ended up with who I was meant to be with, if not where. And I like to think that isn’t just because I couldn’t see it any other way, although it’s damn true. I often reflect that Adam is as much a life choice as he is a romantic one — I loved him instantly, for sure, and I always thought he was adorable (still do, for he IS), but the fact that we want exactly the same things out of life, consistently, has been just as important. There’s room for change, yes, but it’s not like we differ on some broad aspect of our lifestyle. Too often, I think that is overlooked. You need lots and lots sparks, sure, but I also needed someone who would love me in the every day life that isn’t as romantic. I know that’s unromantic in theory, but in execution, oh it is. I married my best friend, and thank God.

Facebook: making unfashionable thirty-somethings take a dip in the lamely philosophical every day.

Another way that I am pathetically old for my age: I spied ASS CRACK on a Bluefly commercial and it nearly sent me into fits. Crack! BUTT CRACK! On basic cable! Interestingly, it reminded me of the wave of brief nudity that washed over network TV about 10 years ago. Before Janet Jackson’s Nipplegate, there was Sela Ward and “Once and Again” when I swear, they flashed her nipple for a full four seconds, and it remains one of the thousands of reasons why I am mystified that anyone cared about Janet Jackson’s star-clad wardrobe malfunction.

I’d also like to say that I am waiting to watch Lost until Adam gets back on Saturday, because I have, as I always do, occupied myself with every trashy magazine under the sun, and between OK! US Weekly, People, Project Runway and a glass of Target wine in a box, I’m a little too busy for Lost. I’m sorry. Plus, he’ll watch it with me when he gets back, where as the Project Runway/OK!/US Weekly not so much.

Happy Thursday!

*Nick Drake

30 comments January 30th, 2008