Sunday, September 20, 2009

I Have Reached the Ripe Old Age of 21


"A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love , from love to matrimony in a moment." - Mr. Darcy.

Oh Jane Austen, you are so smart.



After church today, I must admit, I am starting to feel like a Jane Austen novel.

You know, "a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."

And by that I mean, "a singe poor college student must be in want of an 18-year-old girl to spoon with."

I, in case you are wondering, am neither 18 nor much of a spooner.

In fact, most of the time, I feel like Elizabeth when she reaches Mr. Bingley's house to take care of Jane, with mud up to her knees.

I sit on the couch working on bits of homework as the other girls my age comment on the fact that I didn't even call a carriage.

And by that I mean, didn't even bother to do my hair that morning.

And I, like Elizabeth, sometimes sit back and watch Jane/ all my other friends from high and elementary school get engaged and married to boys with good temperaments and handsome smiles.

And I am happy for them.

And sometimes I even think it would be nice to wear a diamond on my fourth finger, too.

But I am not looking for a Mr. Bingley.

I, instead, am waiting to casually run into a Mr. Darcy at my neighbors' ball.

And by that I mean, I am waiting to run into someone who knows how to properly offend me wihtout actually hurting my feelings.

Or something like that.

And also, someone who thinks it is attractive when I walk.

I'm still working out the details.

In the meantime, I am sitting back and watching hundreds of Mr. Wickhams run off with the 18-year-old MCBs.

And it would be a bit of a lie to say I'm not a little jealous of them.

Those 18-year-olds, they have their whole lives ahead of them.

Me, on the other hand, I just have a tiny while to find someone who appreciates my muddy shoes and undone hair.

And that could be tricky seeming as how at the ripe old age of 21, I'm well on my way toward becoming a version of poor Charlotte Lucas who marries Mr. Collins.



And by that I mean, a cat lady.

7 comments:

  1. Don't do the who Jane Austen thing, it confuses most of the males in the world.

    However, here's round two of the "good song" collection.

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nsZtMtyWRVo

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  2. Kyle,
    Have you not seen the movie "The Jane Austen Book Club"? There are men in that movie that understand Austen. And I know that it's just a movie, but sometimes movies are based on real life events.
    Sincerely,
    Chesca

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  3. hahaha this is like one of the best posts ever. Stay strong girl!

    PS: if you didn't know Pete Howe = Mr. Wickham

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  4. HAHAHA to paige's comment, or maybe wickham is Ryan Cook...?

    alec, you already know this is one of my favorite posts, along with petmilk and grocery store adventures.

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  5. Alec, you are clever, and by clever I mean, that you deserve an award for your brilliance. Oh you already got two of those didn't you.... Oh well, seeing as you are an official Old Maid at 21 may I suggest you skip being a cat lady? They are stinky.

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  6. Ah 21... I am at the next phase of life. (The stage of once you do get married and don't have a baby 9 months later, what's wrong?) Everyone starts asking, "Don't you like kids?"
    "Why are you waiting?" yada yada yada, like it's any of their business.

    There always seems to be some stage society wants you on, and if you don't fit the typical model then you are off kilter some how.

    Course they all get jealous when sitting around the house with their 8 kids, dirty diapers, with piles of laundry stacking up, while they read about my latest travel adventure, so really who cares what they think.

    Happy Birthday, by the way.

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  7. Its a good thing that I've read that book (more than once-its quite good) or I'd have a hard time sorting out these obscure references.

    I still have an Ingrid Michaelson ticket for the 1st, Ms. Homework.

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