I've had some pleasant, non-bitchy, anecdotal posts that I've been thinking about. But I don't feel like like writing them today. My husband and son have been in bad moods this week, and so have I. My son's had a cold, I've been premenstrual, and my husband, well... it seems he's been premenstrual too.It didn't take much to push me over the edge today.
I go to a pilates class on Tuesday's when my work schedule allows for an extra long lunch. It's a small, semi-private class, with a maximum of four women.
One woman is an OB nurse in her mid-thirties. Another woman is a 44 year old who had a baby through IVF 17 months ago.
The third woman is an unemployed 26 year old, who has been married for a year and half to a lawyer who is twelve years older than she is. They travel a lot, she's dressed really well, and they remodel expensive houses.
I've tried not to judge this woman. I've said to myself. Just because she fell in love with a rich(er) guy doesn't mean she's superficial, doesn't mean she's not interesting, or not thoughtful. And in fact, I do not think she is a gold digger, I think she is appreciative that she doesn't have to work (except to supervise remodels), She is not loud or garish.
HOWEVER, there a few things that have been red flags for me. First of all she wanted to move out of her urban neighborhood to the the full-on suburbs, because "everyone stared at me around here" (The Pilates studio is in the same neighborhood as her old house.) I wanted to suggest that it was perhaps that she is gorgeous, twenty five years old, and has a huge, beautiful, and clearly natural set of breasts.
I should also point out, that even though she lived in a very exclusive neighborhood, it did adjoin the mostly black and immigrant part of the city. Frankly, I think she was getting some appreciative comments from the brothers in the neighborhood and couldn't handle it.
I do think it entirely possible that the suburbs boast more fake boobs per capita, so maybe she won't stand out as much there. Whatever. I am just suspicious of young urbanites that want to move to the 'burbs without any specific reason (other than looks on the street.) I hate the suburbs, but at least I can understand reasons like "better school districts", "community pools", or "lots of families" for moving there.
She grumbled a little when she and her husband had to lower the price of their house from 825k to 795k. She whined about realtors coming by unexpectedly. She just seemed a little...spoiled. But still, she is pretty down to earth, and she doesn't have any irritating mannerisms, or an obnoxious voice. I'm really working on not being judgmental.
Okay, so she's never heard of Roxy Music. She was a toddler when Avalon came out.
I'm just so effing PMS crabby today it wasn't going to take much to send me over the edge.
When I got to class today, she was talking about her in-laws who were in town last week. I asked if she got along with them. She said "it's weird, they are just so much older that they feel more like grandparents." How old were they you may ask? In their mid to late fifties. I laughed and said, "For crying out loud, I'm practically in my mid-fifties." She looked shocked. I said, "I'm kind of kidding, but I'm not THAT far away, I'm old, I just turned 42." She said "Well, you're younger than my mom!" I responded with way more volume than I intended to when I spluttered out, "Jeezis, I sure hope so. I would have been about twelve if I was your mom." (It turns out that I would have been fifteen after I did the math. But who's doing the math?)The OB nurse was cracking up behind her. I must admit that it was pretty funny that she actually thought this was a compliment. It's a new one for me, who usually gets "You're kidding! I thought you were about 35!"
So then she says, "Well my mom was young. She's 46. And she has a THREE YEAR OLD!!" Her eyes started rolling and she couldn't contain her snickering. I said, "Your mom has a three year old? (Yet another 43 year old success story to mock me.) "Yes," she said through her snickers "You CAN get pregnant in your forties!" Yeah, no shit. I HAVE been pregnant in my forties. I told her that too, and didn't bother to explain what happened to that pregnancy. Let her wonder. I doubt miscarriage occurred to her. She probably thinks I had an abortion.
I know what you're thinking. She's only twenty-six, and everyone is like that when they are twenty-six. But I wasn't, truly. I remember meeting a 42 year old when I was about that age that recently had given birth to a baby through what seemed like heavy-duty infertility treatments that I was not well-versed in at the time. I do remember thinking that she seemed old to me, and I do remember thinking that I didn't want to be "that old." But I also distinctly remember thinking, "Good for her! It's great that she was able to have a child with her second husband, I'm glad that fertility resources were available for her." I know I didn't think it ridiculous, or humorous in any way.
This twenty-six year old has just been coddled and protected and not well-educated either emotionally or academically. She's oblivious, and she's bugging me. Trophy wife.
Nothing but positivity over in this corner of the world.