What’s Weird Wednesday March 9, 2011

Having a girlfriend is weird.

Picture this. You spend your late adolescence pining over desire and what that means for you. You fill diary after journal with melodramatic rants questioning the very existence of life and love and oh, does it even matter? You write stanza after stanza of terrible poetry exploring the possibility of living a life completely void of romantic relationships because you have ZERO crushes on ZERO boys. Then, Boom! You watch But I’m a Cheerleader one (read: much more than one) time and you understand EVERYTHING! You’re not a hopeless romantic. You’re just gay! You can’t imagine having a boyfriend because you want a girlfriend! The clouds part, the stars align and the next chapter of your life begins. Yes, the next beautifully written chapter lined with overtly sexual lesbian under and overtones has opened. And so you walk out the door, birds chirp, forest animals appear at your feet to greet you as you embark on your most important quest to date, mainly because you have never embarked on a quest before, the quest to find a girlfriend.

[Disclaimer: Today’s WWW purposely excludes first girlfriends. That is a whole different Wednesday]

Fast forward to a few solid months into a relationship with a girl you just adore. You’re slightly past the honeymoon phase segueing into a new routine. This is different from your routine as a single woman in that you now have some level of responsibility to consider your girlfriend throughout your day to day. You also have a whole world of additional resources! You have another person’s house to hang out in, another bike to ride, another car to drive and best of all, someone else’s boobs. Maybe you’re left alone for the first time in your girlfriend’s apartment, armed with a copy of her house key and a DVD collection other than your own. Maybe you’re driving your girlfriend’s Jetta to work so she can use your car to pick up ply wood. That’s when it hits you. You have a girlfriend, a built-in roll dog, a partner in crime. You’re no longer single. Isn’t it weird?