Compatibility

Teeny-love-boppy love is in the air. Fresh out of high school or college the invites and evites are taking over the mailboxes. A cousin had this on her Facebook profile "Love is friendship on fire"...I smiled and gagged all at once.

Compatibality is so hard and by hard I don't mean, "Oh dear me, it must be difficult to figure out which one of the eligible bachelors is going to be right for The Bachelorette, Ali at the end of the next 8 weeks."

What I mean is more ..."Shit! Seriously? I'm so over you. Did you just spit a lugie behind the back of the car? Smoking is disgusting. Nevermind, everything I say get's lost in translation."

Ugh.

I know, right?

What is my preoccupation with compatibility? Some of it is just the rambling I hear in my head fueled by the obveservations all around me. I don't get why people, and by people I mean reasonably smart women, settle. Why?! I subscribe to a school of thought that lives somewhere between A) don't be a slut and B) there's a damnshitloadfulloffish-in-the-sea, but this stuff going on is just what soap operas are made of. Do you want to be Kourtney Kardashian!? I thought not.

Blame the cute sundresses I can't escape buying, blame the wanderlust and the desire to not always have to figure out who is up for a trip, blame an upcoming birthday, blame my big, big family, blame the fact that my father (yes him!!!) said today: "you know you could easily be a cat lady" which was shortly followed by "I better get my one leg and move quickly" after the sideways glance became the quick recipient of.

I don't have many answers about anything, but I am finding out what is really important to me, who I actually am, and one solid for sure: I know that I don't want to end up being the damn cat lady.

Meow.