I make quite a few comments about The Marrieds (married people deserve capitalization due to their significance in my life). Despite what I may say, I really have nothing against them nor marriage. I am sure I'll be married some day, I mean stranger things have happened. Lifelong commitment won't be as daunting when life is already half over. It'll be more like, "Hey, let's hang during our downfall. If I'm going to go down, why not go down with me?" How romantic. But what really kills me is when characters from your life get married. You know what characters are? They're people who aren't your friends anymore, but played a part during a memorable period of life. Thus you recall them as only stagnant characterized beings.
So I'm strolling through facebook and see that my college guy friends are married. What? They aren't supposed to get married! How can they? These guys are the guys who have several kegs in their home, live with 18 guys, take home random girls, and buy me shots in basement house parties. And I'm supposed to believe they are married now? Impossible I say. Inconceivable. And then it hits me. I'm like the mom who thinks her boy is still her little boy and packing his lunch and doing his laundry and suddenly she realizes he is actually 45 years old with a severely receding hairline. As if she froze him in time to preserve her own inability to get past his growing old and away from her. Am I in some kind of denial about my age? Are my old college buddies finding me on facebook and wondering, "What the hell? She isn't married yet? Something f'd up must of happened with her. Maybe she turned schizophrenic or something. That happens in your twenties you know."