My mother says my expiration date is coming up soon. When she said this to me I was 24. I'm not that much older now, but she still finds not-so-subtle ways to pressure me into getting a rock on my finger - regardless of whether its from Prince Charming, Mr. Right, or that sleazy 40-year old down the street that plays video games all day."When are you going to start dating?"
"Your sister is going on another date today."
"Have you heard yet from that guy you met last week?On one hand, I can understand her concern. She's probably watched too much Dr. Oz or heard articles about the rapid desiccation of ovaries after age 30. With that much information, how can I compete?
In addition to my prodding mother, I periodically get phone calls asking if I have any new men in my life. My dear friends are wonderful at giving me unneeded consolation about my lack of romantic ventures.
"Don't worry, you'll find a man soon."
"I'll hook you up with one of my husband's buddies."Since my mother and friends have identified their quest in life to ensure that I'm pursuing romance, I feel obligated to feed their dreams. And now that I'm no longer a student holed up in libraries and computer labs it seems I have no excuse not to date. So, I have a new hobby - dating.
