Well, I made it, you guys. It took me over a week to recover, but I made it back from Las Vegas in one piece. It was FUN. I wish I had some crazy stories about craziness, but I don't. And even if I did, I think I'm contractually obligated to not share. You have no idea how rigid that "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" statement is.
So now that my feet are back on firm, non-disgustingly-Vegas-y ground, I've had a chance to get back to real life. Oh, and did I mention that my sister-in-law had a baby while I was working on my second nerve-wrecked cocktail in the Denver airport during a layover to Vegas? Yup, I've got another baby to spoil stupid. If there was a giant shoe, I'd live in it with all my nieces and nephews. It's a brood y'all.
Which brings me to tonight's blog topic. Babies. There are a million of them growing in the bellies of my friends these days. Just about every girl I know is no fun anymore and can't slug back wine with me for the next however-many months.
It really makes a girl think.
I always thought that whole "All my friends are pregnant," phenomenon only happened in movies that star Kate Hudson or something. But no, it's a very real thing, and it's SUUUUPER STUPID because just about all my friends are now pregnant.
Listen, I know. I'm no spring chicken. I'm 100 years old, and by all medical accounts, I'm probably nothing more than a vessel for dying eggs and dashed dreams. And to be honest, I've always been quiet on this subject. I don't like to talk about reproduction plans. Primarily, it's Gross. Ew. Secondly, it's no one else's business. But if there's one thing I like, it's forcing people to take part in my business.
See, this whole baby thing has not been on my list of To Do's yet. I still feel like I'm 22 years old and having kids has always been a distant priority behind finishing this glass of wine, getting a haircut and learning how to talk to grownups without using the phrase "Baller!!!"
Then, what? I move to Rochester and people are like, "Well, Pharon's in transition. Let's rub it in her face and make the Ultimate Settling Down move!" Rude, you guys! RUDE! I like JUST got married. Geo still has Thank You cards to write, for crying out loud.
Yeah, it's a big deal. But part of me feels like I'm being bullied into even THINKING about this because I don't want to be late to this weird baby party people seem to be so crazy about. And if there's one thing I know, it's that being late to a party is almost (ALMOST) worse than being the first to show up. So of course, my social butterfly instinct kicks in and I'm halfway to shoving a pillow up my shirt and proclaiming "I'm here, you guys!! I'm also at this party!! Where's the bar?!" But that would probably give me away...
Anyway, it's been on my mind lately, and not by choice. I can't help but resent my friends for making such a big move without even TALKING to me about it. It's like if all your friends went out and got a face tattoo of a robot without telling you. It's not like you want to run out and GET a robot face tattoo, but you can't help but wonder why everyone else has one and what it means that you are not booking an appointment with a tattoo artist.
However, if there's one thing that Vegas has taught me, it's that essentially, no one has to do anything they don't want to do. In fact, everyone can to do whatever they want, whenever they want; they just have to find the right place. Which means I just need to get a whole new group of friends.