Finding the right one

This one is going down in the column.

There was a bit of a rumble on the intramural field last Wednesday. Our team made it to intramural softball playoffs, and we were up against the law school team. Most people would be under the presumption that our team of sorority girls and fraternity boys, the irresponsible, immature undergrads, are the ones who would be most likely to show up drunk to a softball game. But surprisingly, it was the other way around. A good number of the law students showed up somewhat under the influence. I guess there are some habits you just don’t outgrow. They didn’t even try to be discreet about it either. When a group of people shows up sipping from matching blue Dixie cups, it’s pretty obvious that it’s not Gatorade they’re drinking.

Now, I don’t know if I’m mad that we still lost to them or that we didn’t think of it first.

A couple of innings into the game, things started to get unattractive. I tell you, I never knew law students could talk so much smack. But I suppose that suits them as future lawyers of America.

I should be nice. I may need a lawyer one day.

And then it got ugly. I mean ugly. There was an exchange of colorful language; people threw their arms into the air. Refs were trying their best to regulate. I was looking forward to seeing a throw down. In the midst of all the ugliness, one of the girls on the opposing team blurted out a pretty harsh comment, something to the effect of “Well at least we’re not here to get married.” At which point, my roommate gave an equally harsh retort: “Hey, being in law school does not guarantee that you’ll pass the BAR!”

Nice one, roomie.

I sincerely resent a comment like that. I didn’t put myself into a five-figure debt just to get hitched. I’ll have you know, I got into debt to get me a darn good edumacation. Even better, I got myself into debt in order to suffer through four years of engineering and math classes, only to realize that this isn’t what I want to do with my life. Also, it goes to show how much they know. I’m a senior. It’s second semester. There’s about a week left of school. I’m still single. Chances of getting hitched now are somewhat diminished.

This time of year is always exciting around the sorority houses, with candlelights to celebrate girls who have gotten engaged, promised and dropped. It seems like every week, there’s a candlelight. But a fraternity’s drop, engagement ring, promise ring or not, every woman walks away with a diploma. I think it’s safe to say that the women of SMU have ambitions that do not include getting married. We’re looking ahead at a career and other personal pursuits, with room to grow on our own before we grow alongside someone else.

At the same time, I don’t want to devalue marriage in any way. If you are so fortunate as to spend the rest of your life with your college sweetheart, then consider yourself lucky to find that kind of love early on. It takes many people years to find someone they see themselves with forever.

Congratulations to those who feel they are ready for that next step in their lives. For me, it’s certainly a matter of maturity. I know I need time to mature before I have to start dealing with combined income, filing taxes with a spouse, mortgage payments, all that jazz. I’m still working on balancing my checkbook and allocating enough money for rent, food and liquor.

There’s the maturity issue, and then there’s finding someone you want to share your last name with for the rest of your life.

Or until you find someone with a better last name.

Okay, so I’m sure there’s more to it than just sharing a last name.

There are exactly three things in life that make me happy: 1) beer, 2) watching my younger brother grow up, and 3) writing. I feel sorry for the poor guy who has to live up to all of that one day. But maybe there won’t be- no one whose standards I have to live up to, and no one who has to live up to mine. If there is, that’s wonderful. If there isn’t, then that’s okay, too. I’ve got 1, 2 and 3. Except when my brother is 30 and married with children, then I’ll have to start looking for something else to replace #2.

Ah geez, don’t let my pessimism rain on your optimism. Kittens are still cute. Rainbows and butterflies are still nice. And people still do find their other half in life, though at times it seems like the odds of a three-legged rocking horse are better than finding the perfect person. But more and more, with age and that maturity factor, the one I need so much of still, I realize it’s never about finding the perfect person or someone who lives up to your expectations; or someone who exists as your better half and especially not someone who can offer you some fancy bling that’s ginormous, the way you think of glaciers as big. It’s about finding someone who simply gets you- that’s all.

Anyway, all introspective moments aside, I think we need to have a rematch against Law. Maybe this time, both teams can swing a bat while intoxicated. Although, I fear the belligerents could do much harm with a bat in their hands.