Is This Hell, Or Are All Of My Facebook Friends Actually Engaged?
Ah. Another day, another engagement notification looming in the upper-righthand corner of my dashboard. Who is it today? Megan from high school! Well, congratulations, Megan from high school. I don’t know your fiance, in fact it’d be a stretch to say that we know each other anymore. It’s been eight years since graduation… can you believe it? Who knew it would take more than eight years to find your one true love? This girl right here. Me, not you. Congratulations anyway, Megan. You deserve to be happy, I think.
Yesterday’s sacrifice deserves it a little bit more, though. I don’t mean to choose sides here, Megan, it’s just that she’s been waiting like, seven years for this. She said so, on her Timeline. But hey, good news! All of you can get engaged. Each and every one of you. A notification for you all! Yes, yes — every single one of my Facebook friends will be engaged before this year comes to a close, I can feel it. At least, those of you who aren’t married already. Sheesh, with the weddings this year. Obama has you people to thank for the unemployment rate shrinking, am I right? What, with all of the cater-waiters and decorators and app developers that designed one-touch registry apps for unmarrieds like me to order your presents from the comfort of our cellphones — our better halves — without visiting a Crate & Barrel (which I’m pretty sure exists just to boast that some people require full sets of cutlery. Makes my eyes all misty, walking into those stores, fixating on those knives that shine like beacons of domestic hope)… what I’m saying is, your love created jobs. Thank you, Crate & Barrel app developer! Thank you, cellphone! Thank you, married people!
All right. Enough about married people. You guys already had your moment (and it was beautiful, it really was — hope you’re using that colander!) but it’s not about you anymore. It’s about engagements! Engaged people! Blooming like cherry blossoms on the first day of Spring! Marching like an army of really enthusiastic, loved people! Multiplying like a vicious, flesh-eating disease! Is it contagious? Can I catch it? What if I stand here? What about here?
I’m just kidding, guys. It’s just not my time yet. I wouldn’t want to rush into a marriage like the sacrifice on 9/22/12 at 2:46 p.m. Meredith, you can’t know who your life partner is after just three weeks. You just can’t. You’re gambling with your heart. Just promise me it’ll be a long engagement? Nice and looooooong. Stay on my sidebar just a little while. There’s no need to rush. There’s room for all of you.
Yes, all of you. All of you will be engaged come 2013, at this rate. This I promise. Even the single ones. Even the ones who get stood up on New Year’s Eve. You will look down into your purse to find a hanky to wipe away the tears of New Year’s rejection and you will find a young man before you on his knee, arm extended, ring in hand. Or a young woman. Whichever you want. There they’ll be, wanting to love you for the rest of your life. “How, Stephanie?” you say. “How could this be?” The answer is simple: you are my Facebook friend. You are MY Facebook friend. By mere virtue of befriending me, you shall be engaged in a fortnight. Maybe two.
Even you, Charles. I know you’re only seven years old. Yes, some laws will be broken. But this I swear: you are getting engaged. Et tu, Brute? What are you waiting for, a written invitation? No, that’s me. The invitation to your engagement party, bro! Don’t worry, it’ll happen. Just like it happened for all the rest. All of my Facebook friends. My Facebook friends. Mine…
A | A | A
It’s the end of the year so you know what that means: it’s time for end-of-the-year album “Best Ofs”!
Your love. Your passion. Your taste. That’s the reason you’re here. You still belong, even if you don’t feel like it right now. Your taste can be killer even if your ability is questionable.
There are a multitude of misconceptions about the service industry and I feel it is my duty to set a few of them straight.
One should never look like they’re trying too hard, especially not when they’re in the midst of trying so hard they’re giving themselves an ulcer.