Saturday, March 16, 2013


After months of resisting my friends' prodding, I finally caved into the black hole that is Downton Abbey.  It took a couple of episodes for me to get into it, but now I must know all details about their lives and have a lonely void in my life since finishing the third season.  I also learned a few things about the British aristocracy that I wasn't previously aware of.

Now don't think I'd turn down the option to live a Downton Abbey life if it were (unlikely) offered to me, but I'd do things a bit differently.  I would love to have a cook.  If anyone knows me, they know that I want delicious food available at all times, and I don't particularly want to put any effort into it myself.  Mrs. Papmore can come hang out in my kitchen anytime and make me delicious foodstuffs that I gluttonously stuff into my face.

The problem is the formality of their meals.  First off, they wear outfits to family dinners that I'd feel overdressed in at a black tie wedding - which is probably because they're wearing WHITE TIE.  I didn't even know this existed.  What's the point of being a rich person if you have to be so damn uncomfortable all the time?  Why would you wear white to eat?  Doesn't anybody spill besides me?  To me, having that much money means sitting my ass on the couch in my yoga pants, tshirt, and fluffy socks while people bring me trays of Thai food until I tell them to stop. 

I'm rich, I'm fucking in charge.  If you want to dress like a fancy asshole to eat dinner, be my guest, but don't be disappointed when I take mine on a tv tray on the sofa.  And I might do something as ridiculous as having my iced tea in a 19th century goblet.  Fuck you, it's my damn goblet.  It's worth $15,000, and I'm drinking iced tea out it, and it tastes delicious.  And this whole "breakfast in bed thing" for the wives - it SOUNDS like a good idea, but do you know what I'd do if I ate a delicious home-cooked breakfast in my pjs in my comfy ass bed?  I'd fall the fuck back asleep, that's what.  It's hard enough to get me out of bed, don't encourage it by bringing my food to me.  Why don't you just go ahead and catheterize me too so I don't have to get up to use the restroom?

It would be a little awkward for a maid to get my clothes out and tell me "Ok, Lady Kim, here's your jeans.  Which tank top would you like today?  One with some sparkle?  Perhaps the dinosaur tshirt?  And let me go get your moccasins."  And I think it would actually be more difficult for someone to dress me, since I'd likely lose my balance standing on one leg and fall into a heap of idiocy and slobbish clothing.  Maybe a stylist would be better - someone to help me pick out clothes from the store and make outfits out of them, since I'm pretty incapable of looking stylish without some emergency text to my friends begging them to provide answers to what I wear with my new shirt.

And I'd take full advantage of the hair and makeup process.  I have never, in my long life, learned to do my hair in any manner other than "blow dried," so some sort of style might be a nice change.  And a professional makeup artist would create the illusion that I'm 90% more attractive than I can make myself out to be on a general day.  I've always wanted one of those. 

Sure, I'd have Carson make my phone calls, since I despise the phone and want nothing to do with it ever.  I'd love to be chauffeured around, mostly so I could nap in the car if I got bored.  I also might try out the silly hat thing, but I suppose I'd have to do a wardrobe change if I weren't to look like a complete moron.  And yes, get me a lounge chair, a tent, and a bunch of my friends to come talk to me.  Why yes, I'd love another mojito.  I'll just be right here when you get back.  Do you think you could hire an Indian chef for Wednesdays?  That'd be super, thanks.

I'm going to have a dinner party!  I expect Thai food, gelato, girl scout cookies, and some nice wine, preferably laid out on silver trays that cost more than my car.  When I take a cookie, please go rearrange the remaining cookies so that it doesn't look like one is missing.  I'd also like Chipotle, but I'd like it to be anticipated before I want it so I can ask for it and it arrives within 2 minutes - seeing as you'd have to go to town to get it.  Hell, just buy the ingredients and keep them in the kitchen, then I can have a burrito bowl whenever I want it.

And I don't need a butler.  Who the hell just shows up randomly anyway?  Stalkers, that's who.  And I sure as hell don't want the butler leading them into the parlor where I'm taking my mid-afternoon milkshake while watching Law and Order and have me awkwardly send them away and ask the butler to call the police.  Oh, do you live across town?  You don't want to drive to Silver-I mean Downton?  I'll send a driver.  No excuse now, bitches.  They'll even keep beer in their car so your ride won't be entirely unpleasant.

So perhaps I wouldn't necessarily do Downton like the Granthams do.  Perhaps I'd horrify them into a heart attack, who knows?  But dammit, if being rich means being stuffy and uncomfortable, give me mediocrity any day.  I'll take my, DVR, and snuggie over wearing a formal gown to an unsatisfying dinner where I'm not allowed to speak about certain subjects or use curse words.  Give me curry or give me death.

Thursday, March 7, 2013


I would say something is hormonally wrong with me, but based on my physical appearance, I'm pretty sure I've got enough estrogen coursing through my veins.  I am apparently the only 31-year-old who not only doesn't want kids, but actively dislikes all children.  I thought I'd grow out of this, say, when I hit the age that most people become baby crazy (which I deem to be about 28-30), but my distaste for little ones is still going strong. 

Honestly I'm concerned.  I know I will end up being the only one of my friends who doesn't have kids, and therefore I'll be some form of outcast in my group.  No, I don't want to go to your kid's birthday.  No, I don't want you to bring your kid to lunch with us.  No, I don't want to do anything "family oriented" with you and your kids and other friends and their kids.  No, I don't want to hold your newborn, babysit for you, or come pick out children's clothing.

What do people without kids do?  Do they have friends?  How do they keep close with their old friends who have kids?  The lifestyle is so vastly different between parents and non-parents that it brings a great void of conversation.  I don't care about their kids, but their kids are their whole world (which means they're good parents, like mine), so what will we talk about?  It's already slowly happened with some friends who had kids young, but I fear it happening to my close friends who probably won't have kids for another 5ish years.

It's a very weird position to be in, honestly.  Recently discussion of maternity leave in the US vs. other countries has come up, and how little paid time off you get when you have a kid.  This kind of information washes over me in the same way a lecture about "what to know if you're moving to Iceland" would.  I don't even get the slightest tingle in my body that this might ever apply to me.  While people at school are considering what they will want to do when they have kids, i.e. balancing a career and family, I have nothing to think about but getting married and having a rewarding career.  For the next 30-40 years. 

One of my teachers was discussing a psychological experiment done to test whether or not someone is a sociopath - gauging their reaction to different pictures.  Some of the pictures would be graphic and gory, and some would be as mundane as a chair.  The sociopaths showed no difference in brain activity between the types, but normal people did (obviously).  While you showing me the police photo of Rhianna's face after Chris Brown beat the shit out of her would cause me to recoil in horror, you showing me a photo of a sleeping baby would get about the same response as the aforementioned chair photo.

I'm not a complete heartless sociopath - my voice gets 6 octaves higher and I get all giddy when I see something like a basket of puppies or a kitten cuddling with a teddy bear, but this is the response of "normal" females when they see a baby/toddler/child.  And of course there are significant advantages to not having kids: a recent study showed marriages were happier when the couples were childless, regardless of their age.  I won't get fat against my will, my boobs won't sag before I'm 45, and I'll have this thing I've always wanted...disposable income.  And free time.  And a good night's sleep, every night (depending on my job, of course).

I love weddings, and I love when my friends get married and I get to be a part of it.  Weddings are fun.  They're parties to celebrate starting a new chapter in your life with the people closest to you.  Bachelorette parties are also quite don't get those when you have a baby.  You get a baby shower, which I will attend but likely not enjoy.  I see only the utilitarian aspect of baby showers - you're going to need a shitton of clothes because likely your kid will piss or puke on itself multiple times a day, and it'll grow out of each size in about a week.  You need certain appliances, furniture items, and other household goods to care for a baby.  It'd be ridiculous if you had to buy all of that yourself.  Knowing that I made someone's life a fraction of a point easier by adding to their baby's wardrobe or bottle collection makes me feel good, but really that's it.  And I really hate it when people bring their babies to a baby shower.  It's the last time we get to talk to this person without having a kid around, so let's USE IT WISELY.

So seriously, what's wrong with me (SPECIFICALLY relating to this, I'm not opening all doors here assholes)?  People are always like "oh, you'll change your mind."  No, I probably won't.  I'm at an age where I should very well know whether or not I want kids because I have only about 9 years left.  The most rational people think  "I want kids, but I want to do X, Y, and Z first."  But to me, even after I do X, Y, and Z, kids still don't seem appealing.  I have the best parents ever, who were there for me all the time, always attended my games/recitals/school events, encouraged me to do what I was passionate about, and I think they raised me to be open-minded, thoughtful, and curious.  They've supported me emotionally and financially through tough times, and I can call them any time.  So why, if I had such a good childhood experience myself, do I not want kids of my own?  Why can't I at least appreciate friends' kids because they are, well, FRIENDS' kids?  Why can't I be like one of those people who enjoys kids but knows they don't want their own?

Honestly, do you know anyone else like me in this regard?  I really don't think I've ever met someone with the same views as me.  Close, but never the same.