Love And Marriage, go together like pastrami and chutney
"Marriage is our last, best chance to grow up." - Joseph Barth
So at last, that time has come, that glorious time in a man's life, when he must put away the playthings of youth and turn to more serious matters, of life, love, and progeny. Where he sallies forth into the great unknown, his faithful partner at his side, eager to experience all of life's travails and silent blisses.
Sod That.
Years of Maturity:2. Marriage Proposals: 1.
What utter freaking joy. To be paraded around family members like a well done piece of sirloin. All the while, everything that is your self worth is boiled down to an endless list of statistics and bullet point achievements. It doesn't matter what kind of person you are or how compatible the two of you are, everything comes down to the thickness and texture of your CV. Of which mine is roughly equivalent to a Wrigley's wrapper.
Asian families make it even more fun because half the time, all the so called 'rules' get tossed out the window and the decision is made long before you even wake up the morning. So there you are, all chirpy(ish) and eager to face the new day sun and all that, and all of a sudden you get the dreaded call - that so-and-so's parents are coming to check you out. By you, of course, they mean your parents. Because Lord only knows, the most important thing is that the in-laws get along.
So you say you're sick of All That? That you're aNew Age man, ready to forge his own path into the ether and drag back his own mate by himself, thankyouverymuch? Silly you. Ok, if you insist. You can meet the girl first.
And after that ordeal concludes, you'd wish you just closed your eyes and reopened them sixty years later as they lower you into the casket. What exactly are you supposed to say when you meet this woman? Hi? Nice, looking at your, er, CV? And why do you get a nagging feelling that she resembles nothing so much as a cowpat?
Oh, but your friends don't help either. As they get knocked up one by one, no matter how you proclaim your bachelorhood, the heat is on, baby and you'd better know it. What's worse, everyone, arranged or otherwise, seems to be getting these gorgeous birds. Which leaves me with a whole lot of photos of girls from the dreaded 'middle' of class which is the black hole of obscurity/mediocrity.
What about girlfriends, you say? Nothin' but trouble. Something's always 'wrong'. Wrong age. Wrong colour. Wrong country. Wrong religion (my personal favourite). You're reduced to being a man seeking solace in the arms of lovers but not wives. Oh, just pick one, you say, and weather the storm. This isn't the least bit original, Marwan. Anyhoo, aren't you a New Age man, open and all?
Sure, I am. The 'rents, not so much. For the moment, they're still the ones (gnash) in control.
Gnash.
Next: The 'other' Monopoly in the Middle East.
So at last, that time has come, that glorious time in a man's life, when he must put away the playthings of youth and turn to more serious matters, of life, love, and progeny. Where he sallies forth into the great unknown, his faithful partner at his side, eager to experience all of life's travails and silent blisses.
Sod That.
Years of Maturity:2. Marriage Proposals: 1.
What utter freaking joy. To be paraded around family members like a well done piece of sirloin. All the while, everything that is your self worth is boiled down to an endless list of statistics and bullet point achievements. It doesn't matter what kind of person you are or how compatible the two of you are, everything comes down to the thickness and texture of your CV. Of which mine is roughly equivalent to a Wrigley's wrapper.
Asian families make it even more fun because half the time, all the so called 'rules' get tossed out the window and the decision is made long before you even wake up the morning. So there you are, all chirpy(ish) and eager to face the new day sun and all that, and all of a sudden you get the dreaded call - that so-and-so's parents are coming to check you out. By you, of course, they mean your parents. Because Lord only knows, the most important thing is that the in-laws get along.
So you say you're sick of All That? That you're aNew Age man, ready to forge his own path into the ether and drag back his own mate by himself, thankyouverymuch? Silly you. Ok, if you insist. You can meet the girl first.
And after that ordeal concludes, you'd wish you just closed your eyes and reopened them sixty years later as they lower you into the casket. What exactly are you supposed to say when you meet this woman? Hi? Nice, looking at your, er, CV? And why do you get a nagging feelling that she resembles nothing so much as a cowpat?
Oh, but your friends don't help either. As they get knocked up one by one, no matter how you proclaim your bachelorhood, the heat is on, baby and you'd better know it. What's worse, everyone, arranged or otherwise, seems to be getting these gorgeous birds. Which leaves me with a whole lot of photos of girls from the dreaded 'middle' of class which is the black hole of obscurity/mediocrity.
What about girlfriends, you say? Nothin' but trouble. Something's always 'wrong'. Wrong age. Wrong colour. Wrong country. Wrong religion (my personal favourite). You're reduced to being a man seeking solace in the arms of lovers but not wives. Oh, just pick one, you say, and weather the storm. This isn't the least bit original, Marwan. Anyhoo, aren't you a New Age man, open and all?
Sure, I am. The 'rents, not so much. For the moment, they're still the ones (gnash) in control.
Gnash.
Next: The 'other' Monopoly in the Middle East.
posted by marwan | 6:53 AM
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