Ok, I think I’ve got it

At least part of it figured out. After a few hours of navel gazing, I think part of my malfunction is the usual gripe that you hear from me every so often: not fitting in with breeders and yet being surrounded by them. I believe I’m at the end of my ability to fit into a crowd that is not all about birthing babies. [Feel free to move along at this time if you are not in the mood for a whiney post. I won't mind. Really.]
I can’t hang with the 20 somethings as much any more; they can be annoying and let’s face it: a bit on the dumb side. It’s not their fault, we’re all morons in our 20s, but it’s tiring for me to be the de facto Voice Of Reasonâ„¢.  I have some wonderful 20 something friends, but many of them are trying to learn how to live their lives. They can’t handle money, they let their parents have too much input, they are miserable, they are struggling. I’ve been there and done that. I figured it out without an FGM, they can, too. Although having 20 something friends is definitely fun, I get tired of the drama. That’s not to say I want to dump all people under 30 – hell no – but I’m just saying that it is quite a big age gap and straddling it can be a challenge. Trust me. It’s harder looking back than it is looking forward.

Most of the 30 somethings are married and that means one thing and one thing only: babies. The need to breed is apparently unavoidable by the average person or even the above average person. This puts me off because it puts me off. Do I have to have more reason than that?  I have said this dozens of times, but it bears repeating:

I don’t hate anyone for breeding, but don’t expect me to be close to you, either.

There is nothing on this planet more boring than new parents. Women are the absolute worst for being completely subsumed by the Mommy Syndrome. More of you breeder people need to read John Rosemond for fuck’s sake.  In the famous words of Bill Shatner: GET A LIFE!

Do people really honestly think that their genetic code is that important?  It’s not, you know. I don’t think that the world will crumble because Harvey/Pratt/Mizgala/Stone DNA has not been produced. Who cares? We are all dust in the end anyway. Evolution marches on. In the big picture, we’re all irrelevant as individuals.

Lately, it’s as if I’m the only female on the planet (besides Stormy, but she could turn up preggers any minute as far as I’m concerned – she’s still in her 20s and is therefore subject to sudden changes in direction) who has not and will not breed and does not have any interest in any of it.  I think I have, uummm, four female friends who are not currently trying to be pregnant or are pregnant or are currently raising children. Maybe five, tops. That is not a good thing.

I am tired of dealing with moms and babies.  I’m tired of trying to have a conversation about something and it always, always ending up being about someone’s fucking kid. I don’t hate my breeder friends, obviously, but dammit, I have to try really hard to fake interest in their fucking kids, why can’t they make an effort to call me and fake interest in something besides their damn kids? I’m glad their children are happy, healthy, the smartest, the cutest, etc., etc., but cut me some fucking slack every now and then, would you? FUCK!! (Yes that is a screamed FUCK.)

This is a whiny ass post, I know it is, and I don’t care. I did not crosspost it for that very reason. There aren’t many LJers who can be bothered to actually come here and read what I write, so not crossposting makes this pretty much a private post. It’s the way I feel and I’m not fucking happy about it. Add to that another goddamned birthday and that makes for one cranky ass Angela. I’m all alone in my 40s with only breeders for support. That truly SUCKS ASS. I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t hang with the young uns. I am tired of the breeders. Where does that leave me? Looks like between a n00b and a yammering mom. Nice.

Goddam I’m in a bad mood. :-(