I had dinner with two friends last night, both of whom are living in blissful co-habitation (no need to bother with labels like "Married," which could refer to anything from domestic violence to peaceful sexless companionship). My friends are clearly having sex and still speaking to their respective partners. Needless to say, I dodged all references to my dating status out of fear that I might shame spiral into my chicken tamale (and that would be a big mess). There was clearly an awkward moment when it became my turn to talk about my personal life and all I could say was, "Internet dating sucks...how's the green chile?" I thought of volunteering something like, "A salsa guy told me he wants to get in my pants..." but besides being a cliche, it didn't seem to follow the thread of conversation about my friend and her husband's recent purchase of a second home in Costa Rica....

At a certain point in life, the inability to have an intimate relationship feels like a public source of shame. Who cares that most relationships I know of are dysfunctional, distant, or take place for a bare few seconds each day. Unlike these people, I don't have anyone to avoid by working, shopping, eating, or day dreaming that I still have a shot at meeting George Clooney (we do live in the same city). Not to mention, I don't have a good excuse, like I'm training for the Olympics or am recovering from a recent head transplant (though, it's sounding like a viable option). At least my mom admits that "I'm special," in every sense of the word. Those are the words that my high school Spanish teacher told her and she won't let me forget it...I guess all I'm missing is a live-in companion to make sure I don't pop my eyeball out with my tooth brush...

Just for today, I can vent about my personal life.