The Young and the Restless
Ben and I had lunch with a couple of friends of his today (Indian buffet--I'm about to explode as I type this). R&R are a young married hippie couple--he's a year younger than Ben, she's a good 10 years younger than me.
I made the fatal error of asking "so what have you guys been up to?"
Partying. Voting. Being vegan. Hanging in hot tubs with dudes they met at the bar. Partying. Sending money to various charitable organizations. Living with his parents, as they're saving up to move to the west coast after the first of the year. Preparing for a 2-month trip to South America. Crashing on people's floors and sofas. Partying. Being vegan. How about you guys?
"Um...we hung curtains last night." (We did, too, and splendid though I think our house is starting to look, it felt so lame to say that.)
Even when I was 24, I didn't live that way. I probably gave up idealism a good 3 or 4 years before, when I realized my vote for Bill and Al hadn't made a damn bit of difference in my standard of living. I was in debt up to my ass, working full-time, and had just gone back to college as a "non-traditional student" (i.e., transfer from School of Hard Knocks). I was divorced. I would have chewed off my own hand before giving up meat. I did spend a lot of time (and money) partying, and spent more than one night on someone's floor or sofa. And it wasn't across country, but when I was 19, I did move to another state where I knew only the cousin in whose spare room I was crashing.
But I never felt like I was being young and experiencing my life. I felt like I was already old, and barreling toward middle age at warp speed.
When we were in the car headed back to our respective places of employment, I asked Ben, "did that conversation make you feel old and boring as hell?"
"No, why--just because they like to travel? And can afford it?"
No, because they have freedom. They have no debt, they have no more possessions than can fit in the one car they own, they have no real responsibility to anyone but themselves. They don't have to be home by any certain time, they don't have to make x amount of dollars just to get by, they can basically do whatever they want, whenever they want to do it.
The thing is, I wouldn't want to go back to that, really. When I was young and "free," I felt very...disconnected. It's hard to explain. I just didn't feel important. Like I could have vanished and it wouldn't really have mattered.
My Monday night excitement may be limited to hanging curtains and watching Scrubs re-runs with my husband, but the truth is, that really doesn't bother me. I do wish we had more time to ourselves, but I wouldn't trade Bob for the world. (No, not even when things with him are at their worst, and not even in spite of all the bs from db.) If I vanished now, it would matter. And while it may not be a novel-worthy existence, I like it.
I made the fatal error of asking "so what have you guys been up to?"
Partying. Voting. Being vegan. Hanging in hot tubs with dudes they met at the bar. Partying. Sending money to various charitable organizations. Living with his parents, as they're saving up to move to the west coast after the first of the year. Preparing for a 2-month trip to South America. Crashing on people's floors and sofas. Partying. Being vegan. How about you guys?
"Um...we hung curtains last night." (We did, too, and splendid though I think our house is starting to look, it felt so lame to say that.)
Even when I was 24, I didn't live that way. I probably gave up idealism a good 3 or 4 years before, when I realized my vote for Bill and Al hadn't made a damn bit of difference in my standard of living. I was in debt up to my ass, working full-time, and had just gone back to college as a "non-traditional student" (i.e., transfer from School of Hard Knocks). I was divorced. I would have chewed off my own hand before giving up meat. I did spend a lot of time (and money) partying, and spent more than one night on someone's floor or sofa. And it wasn't across country, but when I was 19, I did move to another state where I knew only the cousin in whose spare room I was crashing.
But I never felt like I was being young and experiencing my life. I felt like I was already old, and barreling toward middle age at warp speed.
When we were in the car headed back to our respective places of employment, I asked Ben, "did that conversation make you feel old and boring as hell?"
"No, why--just because they like to travel? And can afford it?"
No, because they have freedom. They have no debt, they have no more possessions than can fit in the one car they own, they have no real responsibility to anyone but themselves. They don't have to be home by any certain time, they don't have to make x amount of dollars just to get by, they can basically do whatever they want, whenever they want to do it.
The thing is, I wouldn't want to go back to that, really. When I was young and "free," I felt very...disconnected. It's hard to explain. I just didn't feel important. Like I could have vanished and it wouldn't really have mattered.
My Monday night excitement may be limited to hanging curtains and watching Scrubs re-runs with my husband, but the truth is, that really doesn't bother me. I do wish we had more time to ourselves, but I wouldn't trade Bob for the world. (No, not even when things with him are at their worst, and not even in spite of all the bs from db.) If I vanished now, it would matter. And while it may not be a novel-worthy existence, I like it.
posted by Mitzi Green at 2:28 PM
2 Comments:
Hmmm...this is something that has been weighing on me heavily especially since Monkey Man's illness. I kind of feel like Joey and I have had to be adults our entire marriage - maybe it's because we waited until we were 26 to marry, but we've never had that footloose lifestyle.
On the other hand, my friend Cat Door M and his wife do have that kind of life in a way, but they gave up having kids (or at least she didn't want them) and I think he really regrets it.
I would not trade Monkey Man for all the adventures in the world. But I do kind of miss the days of spontaneity....
I'll shut up now. Just wanted to say that I'm there with ya.
All I can say is that next time I come to town, we're going out for lunch!
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