There's a few things about my blog that you should know.
I go by Hopeless Romantic for many reasons, but I guess one of them would be to protect the innocent. I'm not afraid to say what I think, so that also might be another reason. Haha. So, if some person I know irl were to come here and read every single one of my entries, they probably wouldn't know it was me. That's also why I make nicknames up for people I blog about.
I'm probably a lot more different than what most people would expect someone my age to be. Sure, I love clothes and make up and I'm a huge sucker for boybands.
But, I've been told that I have an old soul (Google it). Who knows? Maybe I do, maybe I don't. But please, take me seriously. That is all I ask. I'm a girl who's never been in a relationship before, so I don't throw the word 'love' around like a hot potato.
But I'm bound to have many crushes on the way, so, please enjoy reading about my roller coaster of a life.

Name : Sarah

I'm black, age 23.

Waist length hair, baby face, social anxiety.

Likes: Daydreaming, writing, reading, learning, fashion, eating, movies, all kinds of music, the color pink, kpop/jpop, kdramas/jdramas, the hollow heart emoticon, things that are cute, making people laugh, comic books.

Hates: Spiders, clubbing and or partying, really hot weather, close minded people, bigots, extreme sports.

contact:

email : here.
[NEW]twitter: @xohplssrmntc
follow me on twitter!♡


F.A.Q.

"Where are you from?"
The United States, in the western region of the country. I used to say 'mid-west', but just so you know, I didn't actually know what it meant, and I was using it wrong. Haha.

"Who do you think you are?"
Someone who's scared of everything and who hasn't completely figured out how to live yet.

"If you're so afraid of love, why are you so obsessed with it?"
I still haven't figured that out. But aren't we all?

{ ♡ }

imboycrazy I Wrote This for You. Le Love Gala Darling Caroline Calloway Insta-Memoir
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Internet!! Happy belated October!

It's been a little while since I've updated. How have things been for you guys?

As for me, things have been pretty good.
BULLETPOINT TIME.

• I succeeded in getting my futon, and my little main/living room is now a great success. My futon is comfortable, cozy, and makes the whole room look better. My basement is not just my basement now--it's my own little apartment! The one thing I still have to get is my cute little microwave, but it's only $59, so I'll get it in no time. Which is good, because I'll need it in time for hot cocoa season, which has not yet started here. (It's weirdly warm right now. And in October, of all times. What the hell?!) 
• I've been doing fun autumn activities with the fam, including a hot air balloon festival and a harvest festival, which included a petting zoo and a pumpkin patch. Now I've got a 20 pound real pumpkin to go with my 4 fake pumpkin decorations, hahaha. I haven't done those things in years, and I'm so happy I've gotten to do them again.
• Speaking of decorations...soooo many decorations. One thing that I think may be an indicator of me growing up is this huge sudden interest in decorating. Holy hell, I LOVE DECORATING. Especially seasonal decorating. I've been buying fall and Halloween decorations left and right, which I never used to care about before. And lately, I've been saving up already for Christmas decorations, which I'm going to start buying this weekend while they're on sale. Yes, I'm buying Christmas decorations in October. Yes, I am 1000% aware that I'm crazy. But at THOSE prices? Hell yeah, I'm buying them. Come the 2nd week of November, my little apartment will be a pastel winter wonderland. *snap snap*
• I've been applying to jobs, which has been of course, unsuccessful as usual. But at least it helps me feel like I'm not doing nothing.
• After 2 stints of having my baby cousins over at our house overnight (babysitting reasons) I am once again reminded about how glad I am that we don't live with them anymore. Soooooooooooo glad. (During the first stint, the stress in the house was so great that for a day afterwards I had stress-induced heart palpitations. Yeah. Yikes.)

Labels: babies and marriage?!?, change, growing up, halloween, jazz, johnny, life, online dating, tinder

Internet. The day I had been so nervously waiting upon with mixed feelings has finally happened.

The closer this day has gotten, the faster the days seemed to go.

As (some of) you might know, I've been participating in the summer edition of NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month). Which means that every day of July, I've been writing my ass off. At the end of July, I will hopefully have a completed full first draft of a story on my hands, which will make the second full, novel-length story I have completed just this year. (WOW.)

So far this month, I've been typing away at my laptop. And between all that typing and plotting and such, I've been thinking about this wedding.

Earlier this month, Jazz has visited twice. Once as a just-dropping-in kinda thing, and another the next week to give my mom a haircut (she's an officially liscensed hair stylist now. So proud of her.) The two visits put some things to rest that I'd been worried about the past couple of months.

The first one: she's definitely not moving. Her and her fiancee (now husband, but I'll get to that in a second, whew!) have bought their first house and have moved in already, and are getting things together in their new house. She even mentioned that after the wedding, we could hang out more. Which meant a LOT.

And the second one: She told me that I was the only person from our old school that she invited to the wedding. The ONLY ONE. She didn't even invite Colbie, who she's drifted away from the past couple of years and then permanently cut herself off from early this year when the aforementioned girl got MARRIED two months after calling off another wedding with a completely different guy, which she had originally asked Jazz to be a part of and made her buy an expensive bridesmaid's dress and everything, yikes. (I hadn't even known Colbie had gotten married! Me and Jazz were pretty tight with her in middle school, and she and Jazz were even closer in high school, so it's totally crazy that she would treat Jazz that way. The girl is nutso.)

Anyway, that told me that she really did value me as a friend, and that I wasn't just some obligation, or something. My worries about being left behind were put to rest.

The day she cut my mom's hair was her birthday. She came in the morning, and I wasn't feeling too hot (monthly gift), but I had written her a handwritten birthday letter.

Basically, the summarized gist of it (because I didn't keep record of exactly what I said, and dammit I should have) said, "Your 21st year will probably be the most important year of your life so far. There will be a lot of changes in your life this year, but I'm certain that if anyone can handle them, you can. Some changes I may not be able to relate to, but that doesn't matter. You're still my friend. I know that I don't act like it sometimes, but our friendship is important to me. I'm trying my best to work on that, though. I hope that no matter what changes we both go through, we'll still be here for each other and remember how important our friendship is. Happy Birthday. See you at your wedding!"

It was basically the simplified version of how I've been feeling, but she seemed to really love it. I hope she did.

So, back to the big day!!

In the days leading up to it, I took extra good care of my skin and hair, wanting to look good for pictures that might come back to haunt me in 10 years (HAH). That morning, I got up extra early to shave my legs, check the results of the sleeping mask I wore as I slept to get plump, flawless glowing skin (a great success!), do my makeup and hair, and I wore the pink dress that I got at that boutique downtown for my birthday.

Me and my parents headed over to the venue, which was a gorgeous, outdoor garden, with gazebos, fountains, statues, flowers, string lights, butterflies and lush green trees. The whole place was straight out of a fairytale book. They offered guests water and coffee upon entering, along with cute pamphlets for the wedding that had a crossword puzzle on the back with facts about the bride and groom.

After talking to Jazz's father (and giving him a hug of course), who was jittery but happy, we went to go find seats.

Determining which angle I would get the best pictures from (after Jazz told me her wedding would have an official hashtag for Instagram, I told her "I'm gonna Instagram this wedding like it's my job."), we sat. After a while of waiting, (and swatting flies with my pamphlet) it was time.

Her sister (her only bridesmaid) walked down the aisle, the groomsman came down the aisle, and then the music for the Jazz started as she came out in her beautiful white dress.

It's kind of strange, I didn't cry that much. Before, I was positive that I would be a wreck during the entire thing, but I wasn't. I only teared up once during the entire ceremony. My mom cried more than me, actually. Thinking back, aside from snapping pictures of all the important moments--her dad walking her down the aisle, her and her husband standing at the podium together holding hands, their first kiss together as man and wife--the whole thing feels like a dream.

I watched in a daze, half wondering if I was imagining the whole thing. In fact, looking back now, I'm crying more.

Even during the brunch reception, seeing them sign the certificate didn't make me cry. I didn't even cry during their first dance, although I enjoyed it and got a perfect, 15 second instavideo of it. (They danced to We Found Love by Ed Sheeran.) I didn't cry during the toasts, either.

It just hadn't hit me, I think. I can be that way with big life events, I'm learning--when something big happens, it doesn't fully hit me until much later. I watched one of the best friends I've ever had get married. I went to her wedding. Jazz has a husband now.

Speaking of their first dance, during it, I got a special surprise.

After taking my short instavid, I was standing there watching them dance when someone tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Sarah?"

Turning, I was facing my middle school nurse, Mrs. R*.

Some background here: Mrs. R was not just the middle school nurse. To me and Jazz, and several other girls at the school, she was a counselor. She was a friend. Our middle school years were our most tumultuous, and when things got really bad, we went to the nurse's office. Not just when we were sick, or when we were injured or didn't feel good. We went there for emotional counseling. Friend drama? Mrs. R had advice. Boy troubles? Mrs. R always had boy advice. Trouble at home? Mrs. R had advice and a shoulder to cry on.

She's probably the single reason that I made it through middle school in one piece. She's the reason I made it through all my Ricky Bobby troubles in the eighth grade, plus all of my other troubles. (I talked to her about him all the time. I remember right around when I realized how much I liked him, I was in her office one day during lunch, and I told her, verbatim, "Mrs. R, I just...I like him so so much. What am I gonna do?")

So, as you can imagine, seeing her was an enormous welcome surprise. I hugged her and squealed (she's shorter than me. Me, who's shorter than everybody.) and we talked for a little bit. She asked how I'm doing, and even though that's always an awkward question for me to answer (because I never know how to answer it. How am I doing, anyway? Am I good? Am I not? And why would I say if I wasn't?) I told her I was doing all right, and that I've been taking things one day at a time. I asked how she was doing, and she told me she doesn't work at the school anymore, and just works part time now. We talked for a little more, and then I told her that me and my parents were just about to leave, but that it was so nice to see her again (Looking back, I think I kind of seemed like I was in a rush to leave, and I feel bad about that. Damn social deficiencies.)

Talking to her again for the first time since middle school really was the cherry on top of an already nice day.

Before leaving, I went over to Jazz to give her a hug and say congratulations again (the first time was earlier in the reception, where I also forced her to take a selfie with me HAH), telling her goodbye and that I love her and that I kept my promise to post to Instagram with her hashtag. (Can you believe I was the only one at that wedding that used the hashtag? THE ONLY ONE. I saw lots of phones out at that wedding, how was I the only one?? But from the looks of it, my pics were the best ones--my brand new phone's high res. camera, crystal clear zoom and cute filters? Pfffft. No question, mine were definitely the best.)

Walking out of that fairytale wedding was just as surreal as walking into it.

I'm still in a daze about it all, although it may be finally hitting me now, somewhat. Seeing Jazz update her relationship status on Facebook may be part of it (from 'in a relationship' to 'married'. Whoa.). When she changes her last name there, it may hit me even more. When I got to their house for the first time, my head just might explode.

One thing for sure, though, is that I feel so grateful that I was able to be even a small part of this major event in her life.

After seeing them together, and seeing how happy she was, I can't believe I ever even questioned her choice. I can see now that this was a good decision, and that they're made for each other. Sometimes I'm such a cynic that it's hard for me to believe that other people could actually be happy together, and genuinely want to spend their whole lives together.

Maybe it's hard for me to believe sometimes because I haven't experienced a relationship at all, let alone that kind of love. I have no idea what that feels like. But seeing Jazz get married, I think I finally have a teeny little hope somewhere inside of me that someday, I could be lucky enough to.

This Hopeless Romantic has gained back some of the romantic inside of her after this wedding.

Congratulations, Jazz. All the best to you and your new husband. As you step forward in this new phase of your life, I'll be here, cheering you on, for as long as I possibly can.

xo Hopeless Romantic

Labels: adulthood, babies and marriage?!?, blast from the past, growing up, jazz, weddings

Internet!

Here comes the second part of my rambling update where I talk about ordinary things that happened in excruciating detail!

So first. My birthday. My odd, exhausting but also mostly uneventful 22nd birthday.

Now. I had planned what I wanted to do on my birthday months in advance. Not down to the very smallest detail of course, but I'm a meticulous person. I like lists, I like organization (except for in some places in my room), and I very much like planning far far ahead. I planned from the beginning that I wanted, during the day on my birthday, to go shopping at some fun stores. Then, for later on in the evening, I wanted to eat at a yummy restaurant and have yummy wine with family and at least my one friend (since Jazz and I weren't really talking around the time of my birthday last year.) and have a generally nice day.

Well. That...didn't exactly happen.

The way things tend to go wrong when you need them to go right, that is what happened on this day. I mean...pretty much everything went wrong. It would've been hilarious if it were on a sitcom and it weren't my life.

One important detail--in my family, we have one car. Let me repeat. One car. As we have had issues with several times before. When your family can only afford one car, let me tell you, it creates lots of problems. For instance, if one family member works full time (my dad) and needs the car pretty much 80% of the time, then going out and getting activities done while they're hogging the car is pretty much impossible (and since we live in the suburbs, walking to places is time consuming and would be like trekking to Mordor and back).

We had arranged ahead with my dad to let us drop him off at work, borrow the car for the day, and go shopping like I had planned. And said plans got pretty much beaten to a pulp and thrown in the trash. As our plans got pushed back, pushed back, and pushed back, and I had begun to lose hope in them even coming around at all, I started to get ready anyway.

The night before, I put my hair up in sock curlers--which I'd done at least 20 times for nights before school, and it had always turned out adorable and neat and super easy to take out and make my hair look like I'd spent 2 hours working on it. Imagine my horror when I take them out of my hair and--lo and behold--my hair turns out AWFUL. Just the frizziest, matted, greasiest-looking mess you could ever imagine.

I had seldom ever had hair as terrible as this before in my life. And it was my BIRTHDAY.

So, a frustrated, frizzy mess, I went upstairs to my mom to complain, all like, "LOOK AT MY HAIR!" And so as she calms me down, she suggests that I use heat (something I rarely do these days anymore) to fix the problem. Reluctantly, I agree, because at that point there was nothing else I could do to fix it.

So I go back down to my basement, go to my bathroom, and as I try to comb through the knots, it seemingly makes the frizziness worse. And I look at the clock and realize how much of my birthday has gone by, and that it's almost dinner time, and I was trying to salvage my hair. Then I start to panic.

Not just any old panic, however. Nope. I just had to pick my birthday to have my first panic attack in a while.

Yup. I hyperventilate. My heart feels like it's trying to beat its' way out of my ribcage. I get dizzy. I sit down on the bathroom floor. I begin to sob hysterically.

Even though part of me knows it's ridiculous and really freaking sad that I'm having a panic attack on my birthday of all days, as always, it's not something I can help. I sit there and try to fix my breathing and cry and think of how it's so fucking sad that I was turning 22 and I couldn't even get out of the house of my own choice on my birthday.

20 minutes later, the attack subsided and I pulled myself together. I flat ironed my hair, did my makeup decently enough but not the way I'd planned to do it originally because I didn't have time now, put on my birthday outfit (a cute black birthday dress I'd bought a month before, my black platform combat boots, and pink Minnie Mouse ears--but I forgot my sweater, and it was windy and chilly outside) and finally it was time to leave.

Throughout all of this mess was also the restaurant mess. My dad failed to tell me before this day that the restaurant I had chosen was too expensive, so I literally had to pull some other restaurant off the top of my head to go to instead. (Red Robin. Yeah. Not so exciting. But my only requirements at this point were 1. food that I liked and 2. alcohol. Which they have. And I needed, especially the second one, after the day I'd had.) And then I had to keep texting Jazz to let her know of all these changes and reschedulings.

I felt awful for putting through all of this, especially the day of, and when it was getting near the time to meet her at the restaurant, I could tell she was getting exasperated and I wondered if she still wanted to come at all--a thought which upset me even more because after not having a friend with me there to celebrate my 21st birthday, having a friend with me on my 22nd birthday meant a lot more than I realized. As soon as we arrived at the restaurant (after making a quick run to a store downtown to get a dress I'd seen there a week earlier, which will be the dress I wear to Jazz's wedding btw) I apologized profusely, telling her that I was embarrassed and would understand if she didn't want to be there.

She took it all in stride, though, and the dinner went mostly okay, especially after I began drinking my sangria and all the edginess and upset melted off.

As we finished dinner, I asked Jazz if she wanted to come over and have some cake, and she agreed. I rode with her in her car on the way over, and during the ride, I vented to her about the woes of that day--excepting the attack I'd had. She doesn't know that I struggle with them, and it's not something I tell people about easily. (I even refrained from writing about them on here for a while. I'll save that for another entry, though.) She understood why I was frustrated, and said I didn't have to apologize. And at that moment, I was so relieved she was there.

When we arrived at our house, we sliced into my delicious birthday cake (chocolate, with light pink and white frosting, strawberry halves on the sides, and 'Happy 22nd Birthday, Sarah!' written in red frosting). We chatted for a bit about different things, planned to go to our favorite pottery painting place soon, and then she left.

Thus was my odd, exhausting but mostly uneventful 22nd birthday.

Thinking about it now just exhausted me mentally all over again, and I'd rather not think about it any more, to be honest. Thank God it's over, Hah.

So now here comes the last big part I need to update on: Jazz.

About a week or a week and a half after my weird birthday, Jazz picked me up and we zipped on over to our hole-in-the-wall cute pottery painting place. She introduced me to the place, and going there is the most relaxing, peaceful experience. (Except for the country music the owner plays. But hey, it's not my business.) If I could, I would spend all my time between there and the library and my favorite bubble tea cafe.

So I painted a cool bowl-mug type thing, and she made a glass jewelry necklace type thing, and enjoyed each other's company without feeling like we need to talk, which I've always liked about Jazz.

Afterwards we drove by Starbucks so I could get a panini and a frappe, because I hadn't eaten and I was starved (also, in a weird moment, inside the cafe, I thought for a moment that I saw Rose there out of the corner of my eye--I'm pretty sure it wasn't her, but it was pretty weird). Then she had a customer's appointment to get to, so she dropped me off back home. It was an overall fun day.

The thing I need to talk about though is this: the wedding.

The impending date seems like it's coming faster and faster. Now it's in approximately a month, when it seems like they just got engaged yesterday. They sent out invitations already, with a prim and neat engagement photo on the inside of it.

On the day we hung out, she confided in me that after the wedding, they might move out-of-state for a job opportunity for her now-fiancee-but-soon-to-be-husband.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm happy for Jazz. I am. It really seems like she's found something real, and I'm happy for her.

But there's a teeny, tiny, very self centered and selfish part of me that feels like marriage might just force us to grow further apart than we already have. That my last friend here in town is going to have this whole new big married life without me in it, and she'll forget all about me.

So feeling this way, that's probably why the littlest things have bothered me lately--like her not following me back on Instagram when I've been following her for 2 whole months now, and her posts on Facebook about wedding planning and her and her fiancee signing a lease for a house together. Not going to lie, seeing those posts makes me feel...strange.

It's selfish, I know. It has nothing to do with me. It's not my business. She's starting a whole new life now, and it's not that I expect her to stay the same just for me.

But the further into my 20's I get, the more I feel like this big, clueless kid whose old friends are all growing up at the speed of light and my old life is breaking down and fading away faster than I could have ever imagined it would have.

It's scary, you guys. It's scary, uncertain, and it's left me feeling alone and like I've accomplished nothing.

But it's not my place to place those feelings on her. I have to be the happy, supportive friend. Because that's what she needs me to be now.

Maybe she will forget about me. Maybe we will drift further apart. But I don't want to be the bitter bitch who ruined her special day.

I will be here for her as long as she needs me to be.

xo Hopeless Romantic

Labels: babies and marriage?!?, birthday, bitterness, growing up, jazz, sarah flipping a shit but what else is new, updates

Hey Internet!

So, for the past couple of months I've been busy, as I'm sure you can imagine.

Getting used to school life again this semester went really well, and I adjusted much faster than I thought I would. I actually am feeling quite proud of myself for how well I handled this semester. (It was only one class, so it was pretty easy to handle, but I still feel really proud, haha.) I also finished the class strong. (I forgot to check my final semester grade online before the semester ended, but I got As on all of my essays, midterm, and I got a B+ on my final, so I'm pretty sure I did great!) As you already know, this was a huge step for me, and I'm proud of myself for even starting and finishing strong.

Going back to school is my biggest accomplishment of 2014, and it gives me some confidence for next semester as well.

So aside from getting used to school again, I've also been continuing some of the social growth I started over the summer. As in...I've been talking to somebody.

NOW WAIT. Before you get all excited, let me assure you, we're just friends.

But with Kenneth moving to New York City back in July(did I mention that here? If not, yeah he moved. It's too bad, we had planned to meet up again before he left, but I ended up getting sick and had to cancel. He was super sweet about it though, told me that he wanted me to get some rest so I could get better and that maybe one day we'd see each other again. Aww.), I kinda wanted to meet someone else to talk to now and then.

SO. His name's Brennan*, and we've been talking since the end(?) of July. He was really flirty with me from the get-go, which sort of overwhelmed me at times, but he's nice and knows all about my weird hobbies and doesn't judge me for it (HAH).

For about 2 months, October to the beginning of this month, we stopped talking for a bit because honestly I kind of felt like things might progress, and I wasn't into it, so talked to him honestly and said that I wasn't ready to date someone right now and that I'd prefer to stay friends. He was cool about it, though, which was nice. (I actually...haven't rejected anyone? At least not that way. It was a strange new experience for me.)

So the beginning of this month, I got bored with finals stress and decided to download Tinder again (which I'd deleted for a few months to focus on school as well), and we ended up matching again, haha. So we started talking again, and then...

On Christmas Eve Eve (two days before Christmas) we had a coffee date.

God, it still feels so weird for me to talk about dates. This was my second date this year, Internet. SECOND. What's happening to me? Who is this person???

It wasn't as long as the date with Kenneth, so I'll keep it fairly simple:

So. The night before our coffee date, it snowed. Which made commuting the next morning pretty exhausting. I was pretty damn late, like 20-25 minutes late, which I kept apologizing for over text on my way there.

I was already pretty nervous, so I felt pretty terrible on the way. But at least I looked really cute. (I'm telling you, Internet. Going back to school has put my makeup and fashion game BACK ON POINT. I think after 21 years I have FINALLY gotten my sense of style down. I don't want to jinx it, but I feel like I have a sense of style for the first time in like 4 years. And ngl, I looked pretty damn good on that date. Snap snap snap.)

So, I walked in, and I couldn't spot him at first, because he was sitting on the bar stools on the side. Then I noticed a guy bent over his phone with a beanie on the back of his head. I slowly walked over to him, unsure, and I said, "Brennan?" And he turned around.

He was smaller in person than I had imagined. He stood up, and for a moment I wondered if I shouldn't have worn heels. He was about an inch taller than me with my heels on. We hugged, a little awkwardly. He was pretty quiet, which worried me. Then my knees were shaking, so I told him I was gonna buy my drink, and while I was buying it I tried to compose myself. I was pretty successful, and by the time I came back I had loosened up a bit, which made him loosen up too.

We began to talk, and really it was just like us talking over text, only I tried to talk more to fill up any silences. We get along well, and I thought that he was nice to talk to.

It only lasted about an hour and 15 minutes, because he had to go to work, but overall it went nicely. But...here's the thing.

Brennan's nice. He's sweet. Seems kind of more introverted, like I am. Takes school seriously (I think his major is computer science?). Doesn't judge me for my weird hobbies and ramblings about my favorite books and writing, in fact he said it's nice to hear people talk about what they're passionate about (which I liked). Met my dad by chance when he was pulling up to pick me up and called him sir and shook his hand (which my dad liked). And I would definitely for sure hang out with him again.

But.........there was no chemistry.

Dammit. This is really starting to irk me. It's like...all the people that I should have chemistry with I just have...none. Why?? WHY??

And the thing is...with Kenneth...I definitely found him attractive. Within the first 10 minutes of meeting him, I knew I was immediately attracted to him. But Brennan...god. I want to be attracted to him. I really really do. Considering his personality, I should be attracted to him. Why aren't I? I feel so bad that I'm not. I feel terrible.

It's not even like he's unappealing, or anything. He has a nice face. He's half white, half Chinese, with a little scruff on his chin, and he wears kitschy glasses that suit his face. He's not tall, but not short either. Cute smile. Maybe a little boyish, but that works really well on some guys.

When he talked, I kept staring at him, waiting for a spark, but there was just...there was none.

And I keep feeling like maybe I'm not giving him a fair chance, but really I am. I wouldn't have met him in person if I wasn't giving him a chance. I'd hoped that though we lacked a spark over text, maybe we'd have it in person...and for me, I didn't.

I still want to be friends with him though, definitely. I'm just sort of worried that he may be developing feelings for me while I don't feel that way about him.

There's no way to know for sure, though, unless he tells me. So I just...I don't know. Sigh.

But while I struggle over here with this foray into the dating world for the first time, my ex-classmates and ex-friends have been...well, I'll just say this bluntly...having babies.

I mean literally, having babies. And getting engaged. And married. I shit you not.

And one of them that has gotten engaged? Jazz. To her boyfriend of 3 years.

Guys...I didn't think I would have to deal with this until at least my mid-twenties. The fact that this is even happening already...surreal. And sort of...alienating.

I get that some people's goals and priorities are different, but I can count on two hands who has either had a child or gotten married already. And I mean...I don't judge them, it's their lives. But I can't be the only one that thinks that 20/21 is too young to get married and start a family. Right? I mean this is 2014, not 1950. Things are different now, or at least I thought they were.

But maybe it's this area. My city is compared to some parts in the south a lot, and for some cultural points and values important to many people here, we really might as well live in the south.

But...yeah. Jazz got engaged two weeks ago and flaunted it all over Facebook, or course. And of course I congratulated her, because even though I never went to school with him, I've met her fiance a handful of times and he seems to be a nice, stand up guy. So I'm happy she's happy.

It's just like...why now, you know? It's so soon. We're so young and have our lives ahead of us.

I definitely want to get married one day, but not anytime soon. Maybe 27 at the very earliest, and even that seems too soon sometimes. I want to go out, see the world, have my own career, my own life, before I even think about settling down. Even being in a relationship sounds stifling.

But hey, that's me. And that's her. And I just hope that if she makes me a bridesmaid, the dresses won't be ugly. (I'm such a good friend.)

And Fiddy (remember? From freshman year? Wow. Forever ago.) and the girl he knocked up 4 years ago got married around Thanksgiving. (They seem to be doing well. Good for them.) Two people that had babies recently? Jerry, with his current girlfriend (yes, the one that wanted to date me) which was a bit shocking (just think, if I'd given him my number, that could've been me. Yikes.). And most recently (two weeks ago)one of Rose's sisters, Lauren, in a shocking turn of events (she's a year and a half older than me, and I recall numerous times in high school that Lauren swore up and down that she never wanted kids, and that she hated babies. Welp.)

Sooooo...yeah. Like I said, alienating. Crazy.
Not in a bad way, it's just that I think of so many of these people the way that they used to be in High School. Kinda feels like babies having babies. I still feel like a kid sometimes, so I can't even imagine myself having a kid right now. Seems scary.

Adult life, man. This is weird.

But, hey. All things need adjusting, right? Now I'm just looking forward to a New Year, and my next semester in school.

I'll keep you guys updated on Brennan. I just...I hope there won't be any rejecting in the future. (Gulp.)

xo Hopeless Romantic 

Labels: adulthood, babies and marriage?!?, brennan, dates, growing up, online dating, tinder

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