Classic Overthinking

I learned so many things today! I talked to a friend of mine who's Nigerian, and found out first of all, where Nigeria is (on the west coast, in the middle) and what languages they speak there (2 major tribal languages that I can't remember, plus some Arabic. . . I assumed they spoke French, but not really). He was telling me how people get the wrong idea from TV--Africa has big cities, too, but you hardly see them on television. (I know that's true for me.) He lived there when he was little and when he was growing up, he lived on the 15th floor of a highrise in a major city. No animals or mud floors, contrary to popular belief. (He was really nice and patient explaining all this to us, though. I would be pissed if everyone had this wrong idea about my country.) So I guess Africa's kind of like Latin America--yes, there are rural areas with houses made out of wooden slats on stilts, very little electricity and one phone, two towns over, but there are also big cities with buses spewing exhaust and cars honking and guys on the street selling sunglasses and snacks, car repair shops and diners and grocery stores with delivery trucks out front.

If I ever get married*, I want to play this song at my wedding that I heard on the radio. It's by the Righteous Brothers and it goes, "You're my soul / and my highest [heart's, according to some websites] inspiration / You're all I got / to make it by. . . . Without you, baby / What good am I / What good am I." I like it because it you can almost rock out to it. You could start out slow dancing and then just start going crazy. That'd be cool.

*But we won't talk about marriage. Because, well, there are several reasons. I will give you some facts which illuminate why all this wedding talk makes me annoyed (although look who brought it up. . .).

1. Everyone else my age either recently had a wedding, is planning one, or will be planning one within the next two years. And even if they are planning someone else's, they are subconsciously planning their own.

2. I probably won't. (Depends on the day you ask whether I know won't because I just don't want to be married, because I can't find anyone, or because something's wrong with me.)

3. Did you notice married (or almost married) people when they go out, they flock together and start griping about the typical woman things the wife does and the typical man things the man does? "The hamper is two feet from the bed and he still can't find it." "I know. I've been reminding him daily for three months and Phil still leaves his clothes in a heap on the bathroom floor." "Oh, and let me tell you where he leaves his socks. . ." etc. etc. while the boys are all, "She takes 45 minutes to do her hair alone, not to mention deciding on an outfit." "It's ridiculous how many products a girl needs to get ready!" "And the purses. I counted once. Lindsey has 27 purses. Who needs that many purses?"

4. All the nice ones are married. Okay, okay, not all the nice ones. But all the nice, cool, interesting, patient, non-arrogant, cute, open-minded, fun, intelligent, spontaneous, funny, warm, genuine and optimistic ones are. With good reason. And I'm not lusting after them, or out to flirt with them or anything, but it kind of sucks being reminded there are all these great ones. . . they're just taken.

5. People should be able to not be married and still be functioning members of society. Not, "Oh, so sad, you couldn't find anyone. Now your life is incomplete and we all feel sorry for you."

Which leads me to a recent revelation. Much as I disapprove of Angelina Jolie and her home-wrecker-ness, I have to give her props (if a white person is allowed to give someone props) for not caring about getting married. Now that is an independent woman. She just up and adopted a kid from another country, all by herself. I get the feeling Brad is just her sidekick, as opposed to the other way around. I can see how she would be a challenge to a lot of men and that would make her more attractive.

I told you how I learned so many things today, but I didn't really mention that many. So here's another one, an analogy for life and love, courtesy of my (late) favorite soft wool black button-up sweater. So I thought I had left it at work this weekend, but when I got in today, it wasn't there. In fact, it's nowhere to be found, and I'm pretty sure it's gone forever, lost on the streets of Chicago or something. I'd had it for two years and I figured, with as much as I wore it around everywhere, that I would eventually lose it. So I was kind of prepared. Besides being very sad and angry (I know, I know, it's just a sweater. . . But it was so much more. . .), since I kind of knew it was coming, I was able to get over it more quickly. And here is where the big light shines down from the sky, like on Jake in the Blues Brothers. Oh, my little sweater, despite the pain, I would rather have had you for a time and then lost you than never to have had you at all, because you enriched my life. You did such a good job of keeping me warm and snuggly, and you went with me to bars, to work, to sleep if I was cold. . . and so I wish you well and I thank you for staying with me as long as you did.

Now, see? I can have healthy relationships. Just with articles of clothing.