There's nothing like Christmas to drive home the fact that my childless state is impeding the ability of my family to appropriately enjoy this holiday. Who wants to watch a 34-year-old woman open her stocking? It's a silent accusation (my mom doesn't want to "seem" to be putting pressure on me), which is why it feels like it's screaming behind every child we meet, every toy at the stores, every cheerful holiday adornment..."where are MY grandchildren!"

Last night I went to a dinner party with my "normal" friends and their husbands. Or, I should say, my friends who turned out normal. We all smoked pot together in the creek and stole gum and hair gel from the local drug store when we were 13. But some of us made healthy decisions to do normal things like marry nice, appropriate men and buy lovely craftsman homes and compost their garbage and...well, procreate. The scary thing is that I've willingly adopted the role as the unattached, self-deprecating single who can make wise cracks and say the wrong thing because I don't have a partner to keep me in check and find my quirks lovingly irritating...I'm not saying it's a healthy role to adopt, it's just easier than crying over the Merlot about my intimacy issues and attachment disorders in front of people who have found happiness (and because I love them, I'm pleased to see them happy...if I didn't love them, it would be another story...).

God, I'm starting to bore myself.

Just for today, I can indulge myself on the holidays.