orange county boredom watch
(checking watch) Still bored. Trying to work on an edit of an article when I'm not using my two bachelors and two (and a half) graduate degrees to be a nanny to several children or a receptionist/office manager/secretary of the corporation for my sister's dental office.
The suburbs are quite convenient, but part of me wonders how I'll feel living in one again. I have a high boredom threshold having grown up in the 'burbs and having been raised by parochial, strict parents. And it's not like I am the city girl type who lives it up. You have to drag me to any place that might be referred to as a "club," for example. But there's something nice about living in a college city that is full of young, annoying people, even though I now live in the suburb slightly to the side of it. I like the idea of spending hours in cafes full of young urban professionals (aka, "yuppies") and students, and the idea of hanging out in independent used bookstores (even though I buy most of my books on Amazon) and the idea of cool, casual college bars and pubs, even though I'm not much of a drinker. I also like the idea of living the hell away from everyone in some beautiful and remote place from which it takes an hour to get anywhere useful, until I remember that I hate driving windy mountain roads or commuting more than an hour. But while I could imagine raising my family in the suburbs, I now get the whole "I'm not ready for that suburban life yet" angst that people get when they go off to have wild city adventures when they go to college. See, I never did that. I stayed in the suburbs, living at home with the parents, and commuted to my college, which was in the suburban city next door. Blah. I am really quite eager to return to my college city full of bookstores, cafes, and pubs on Monday. Even if I rarely go to bookstores, cafes, and pubs and work from home.
Things I have rediscovered: romantic comedies and women's magazines will be the intellectual death of me. Not even bonding with the sisters is worth such brain atrophy. Yes, blog citizens, I actually watched 27 Dresses (I don't recall this movie--did it go straight to DVD?), and am reading, if you can believe it, Redbook, Women's Health, Self, and Glamour. If anything, this has made me anti-wedding and militantly against being made to feel insecure about my body and relationship skills. Hence, I am eating Milk Duds right now. Of course, I am not getting married myself, and perhaps that state of engagement does something to warp a girl's mind, but dude, the wedding-industrial complex is so insane (especially with coverage of celebrity weddings) that I am all for the backyard barbeque in a short dress with flowers stolen from neighbors' yards.
Of course, I have bad relationship skills, and am a bad partner, so that explains that.