Monday, May 14, 2012

Meth Addicts, Artificial Insemination, and Dead Spouses, Oh My!

I think that title was enough of an opener, so I’m just going to get right to it today. 

I had the following text conversation with a friend the other day:

Me: “I see you have a new girlfriend.”

Him:  “Oh, that didn’t take.  In and out of a relationship in less than a week.  Pretty sure that’s a new record?”

Me: “It’s okay, most of my relationships average 3 months and then go down in cataclysmic flames on Facebook for everyone to watch.  I seem to be un-standable after three months.”

This got me thinking about the life cycle of my normal relationship:

Horrific Event
Week 1
Boyfriend finds me sexy, intelligent, funny and caring.  Wants to spend the rest of his days riding off into the sunset with me.
Week 1 Anomaly
There is an occasional anomaly to the sunset-riding new boyfriend.  This man may be unusually perceptive and realizes my neuroses are not really that cute or he hasn't seen me since high school and forgot how big my nose really is.  This man runs away screaming and deletes his entire internet social life to avoid me.
Month 1
BF realizes I am not the perfect girlfriend when I refuse to cook him dinner, do his laundry, or let him have the remote.
Month 2
BF realizes I'm an anxiety-ridden perfectionist.  Decides to stay because I'm fantastic in bed.
Month 3
BF meets the kids and never calls again.  Oops, I mean gets "lost at sea".
Month 3 Anomaly (my ex-husband)
BF accidentally knocks me up and has to stay for 5 years until the relationship ends in a dramatic soap-opera-Game-of-Thrones-type fashion.

Sorry, I forgot everything isn’t about me.  Back to the conversation:

Him: “Me too.  So a month would’ve been below average but in the range at least.  But a week?  I hope my character judging ability isn’t slipping.”

Me: “I think when you’re over 30 you have to take what you can get because the sample size is so small.  Your character judging has to change in relation to the diminished sample.”

This thought turned into a graph in my head.  I blame the statistics class I am taking:

One can see by the graph that our standards drop dramatically when we age.  Let’s examine each age group listed above.

20 years old:  At this age the female of the human species will only settle for Prince Charming, or even better Chris Hemsworth (I love you Thor!!!  AHHHHHH!!!!!)

30 years old:  The 30 year old single woman has given up on Prince Charming.  If you are a 30 year old unmarried woman your choices are slimmed down to the meth addict that hangs out in front of your building or artificial insemination.

40 years old:  At 40, single ladies have a choice between becoming the crazy cat lady on Hoarders and marrying a man who is an unemployed divorcee (12 times over). 

50 years old:  If you are still single at 50 (or divorced from your meth addict), you can choose between your closest relationship being with the pizza delivery man or dating a married man for 15 years.

60 years old: At 60, you get to choose between being single and being in charge of changing your meth addict’s colostomy bag (or even worse, their diapers).

70 years old:  At 70 you’re just happy that the neighbors haven’t noticed you’re keeping your dead spouse in your coat closet.  It’s so much easier cooking for two. 

80 years old:  Hopefully the gods were good; you’re dead and done with this dating bullshit.

Okay, back to the conversation: 

Him: “That is a very logical theory.  Not sure how I can adapt it to someone who has always refused to compromise though.  I must be a glutton for punishment…. Not to mention it still pisses me off whenever someone tells me that I’m ‘in my thirties’.”

Me:  “I think this is where you go get artificially inseminated and have a kid on your own.  That’s what Jennifer Aniston would do anyway.  Then you get to marry Jason Bateman.”

Him:  “I don’t think I can get artificially inseminated.  I thought I was an ‘inseminator’.”

Me:  “I think it’s more expensive to get an egg donor, but you do whatever you want to do Mr. Richie Rich.”

I hope we all have learned some very important lessons from this conversation.  For example, don’t ever text me when you are feeling lousy about being alone because I will make graphs instead of helping you. 


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