Weekend Blues

As my friend Robert would fire off in his own way, it’s not that I am really depressed or anything. But the question keeps on begging to be answered: Am I worried about not finding someone?

Let me think. Hmmm....… Hell, yeah!

I had an interesting conversation with my friend and colleague over the “weekend” while both of us were busy at work. In Saudi Arabia, it’s really great that you have a lot of free time to do “bachelor” things. Sadly, our “bachelor” thing is doing more work.

I was listening to him intently and I could sense his frustration over the fact that he has no girlfriend (not even the remote sign of one). I could really empathize given the fact that finding an eligible young woman here in KSA who would score five stars is just as remote as figuring out the last digit of pi. There are, of course, shortcuts, or the random hook-up, or else, one could just play the field and see which girl gets pregnant first.

Actually, what really defines our “loser”-hood to a T is that we are not even properly equipped to play the field! Well, at least until we finally get our own cars. Finances willing, I should get one soon.

Still, it’s easier said than done. An item change does not a lifestyle change make. I did, in what seems like another life, try to fit my “squarish”-ness into the round hole of conformity and it didn’t work. In fact, later in my teens, I threw the sink at conformity and said, “what the heck. It’s a lot tougher to try to belong than to be myself.” Not that being myself is any more wholesome. But hey, I'm not making an excuse for my life. It just feels that way.

Still, it got me to thinking of the so-called “aberration” in my life and what strikes me is that there are so many eligible young women out there who would, after a few beers (she of course, would be doing the drinking), probably condescend to go out with me. Problem is, I live out here in the desert, and they… well, let’s just say I wish they were like Kathleen Kelley and are primed to fall in love with what I can write and express. Verbal ability in men, by the way, is overrated, but don’t jump to conclusions until you’ve met the exception to the rule… who else but me? *ducks*

Am I worried? Of course! Mainly it’s the validation, partly hormonal, partly intellectual, that the things I have done still make me out to be “successful.” But for now, mostly, I think it’s because many of my friends are getting married, and while I hardly consider a wife a toy or an erector set (hmmm…let me think, scratch the “or an…”), it would be nice to have the kind of relationships that they have.

So what now? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll bump into someone, or whatever. This feeling hasn't reached depression-level yet....if it did, I would lose the ability to laugh about it, but it can get tiresome, as I'm sure you know by now. Meantime, I took this test and guess what my results were…




Maybe it’s not as bad as I think. After all, some chicks like Nadia in "American Pie" dig geeks. If only if it were that simple.

*Long sigh* Yup, it could be worse. I could be demoted to “subhuman” status like what the astronomers did to Pluto, but still, yeah, the sign says it all.