Recently I discovered the library. My cable has been turned off and I haven't watched television in a month. So now, all that tv time has turned into reading time, and though my high school teachers would be proud of me, I'm not sure it's actually such a good thing, as I am growing strange and too smart about random topics. I'll never get a boyfriend that way.
I like non fiction, mainly. That means self-help books, if you want me to be honest. If I had any money, I'd be making a killing in the stock market, because I know all about how to research companies now thanks to the financial section of the library. I also know how to navigate a troubled marriage, why two income households are most at risk for bankruptcy, many new sexual positions, and more than I'd like to admit about how being single and female is absolutely not anything to be ashamed of and you should nurture your inner vagina like there's no tomorrow, or something. Um, you go.
Where is this going? (Nowhere fast--a warning.) Well, I'm thinking of becoming a nun.
The latest book I have read is about the Nun Study, which is this incredibly interesting long term research project that this guy from Kentucky is doing on the School Sisters of Notre Dame. The book is called Aging With Grace.
Apparently nuns have the best lives in the entire world. They are so happy and fulfilled that often when they die (usually at ripe old ages) and their brains are autopsied, they have all kinds of Alzheimer's brain damage, yet their mental acuity remained with them to the end. How cool is that?
Nuns never are lonely. They've always got another nun to hang with, if necessary. They have guarenteed care and support for their whole lives. If the convent needs a nutritionist (or whatever) and they think you're the woman for the job, they'll send you to grad school to get the required degree at no cost to you, even if you've already got three or four advanced degrees. Even if you're 68 years old.
My stupid parents raised me as an atheist, and unfortunately, it took. The whole JC thing just makes me laugh. So I guess I can never be a nun. Also, I absolutely love sex, though I haven't had it in way too long (four weeks. . .I think right around the time my cable was turned off. I wonder if there's a correlation?). I think I might be able to go without it in exchange for all those free advanced degrees and a guarenteed Scrabble partner anytime I felt like hunting one up in the convent. But if you're not allowed to masturbate, I'm definitely a poor candidate.
The way I figure it, you're going to have to offer me everything the Bride of Christ gig offers, plus sex. Otherwise I'm going to look into converting to Catholicism. I think it could work. I really, really like The Divine Comedy and Dante was Catholic. I've lied about having Jesus as my personal savior in the past, in order to gain benefits from the church (specifically, I was a church organist in college for extra money and often would come in on Sunday mornings with all kinds of sin on me). It might be hard to maintain as a lifestyle, but from all of my "you have to work at relationships!" books I don't think it really is much different from being the bride of an actual man.
Except for the sex, of course.
If you want to reply to this, you should know the following things:
1. I pretend that I have a thick skin, but I hate those mean emails where people are like, bitch, shut up, that was the dumbest post ever and way too long why do you think anyone wants to read that much? Please just say that remark out loud to the computer and move to the next post, smirking in your superiority. Obviously this post is way too long and pointless. Sometimes I like to flirt with random strangers on the internet, and this is how I do it. Fuck off.
2. I'm 25, I'm running a marathon next weekend (hence a nice body), I'm an English teacher, and I'm blond.
3. I will write back to you if you demonstrate intelligence and humor.
4. You shouldn't write to me at all. I live a fucking million miles away, which is why it's so goddam hard for me to get laid. Sigh. I don't even feel like telling you where I really live. Fine. I live in Hawaii. They don't have craigslist for shit in Hawaii. No convents, either, though I haven't looked very hard.
Please save me from a life with Jesus and ukuleles. If nothing else, I bet this is the most bizarro post you read all day.