“Jess, I’ve decided to leave you my wedding ring in my will” my older sister (who thankfully has a cleaner bill of health than a Mormon Pilates instructor) shouted over the Grey’s Anatomy commercial break (sorry for blowing your cover sis)
“What?! Why?” I said freaking out during my BBC nightly news commercial break (hey, it’s my story…make like Jennifer Aniston and “just go with it”)
“Calm down…it doesn’t mean you have to use it…you can pawn it or something” she quickly quipped as Dr. Mcdreamy saved lives and broke hearts in the background.
The fact that the potential thought of my dear sister’s passing is overshadowed by the vague possibility that I’d claim ownership of anything which falls in the theme of marriage shows — among many things — that I’ve got major commitment issues. And not in the “I’m 26, I don’t do relationships “500 Days of Summer kind of way” (besides the fact that I don’t look nearly as good as Zoey Deschanel when prancing through Ikea). Once considered strictly a guy issue, the theme of “not really being into commitment” is as widespread in females as that dolphin tramp stamp you don’t remember ever wanting. Nowadays it seems lots of young women don’t want to settle down until the “young” is no longer an adjective, which includes them. Just to be clear, I know my fear of someone asking me every night “what do YOU want for dinner” is totally, absolutely, completely not original — just want to make it clear. It seems (at least in my Los Angeles bubble) that I’m following the herd on this one.
Though it is pretty common knowledge in the house of Kahnweiler that the likelihood of me borrowing my sister’s wedding dress and cruising down the aisle is less likely than me growing a second pinkie toe. Yet I think my family would like to believe deep down that eventually my fear of partnering is, much like my glow in the dark romper, something I’ll grow out of. Until then I’m faithfully practicing the three month “ it’s not you, it’s me” thing like nobody’s business. No matter who I talk to about my various guy issues, the advice always ends with “but you’re young…have fun” And while dating in LA is often anything but fun, I’ve kind of decided that in terms of dating — for now– bouncing around is where I’d like to stay put. Besides the future is way too far away to worry about…..
As I commit to bouncing I’m finding, like lots of us working gals running like hell towards our dreams, that I simply don’t have the time for all the hard work dating requires. Until Steve Jobs can create the “sleep while you drive” app, I simply don’t think there are enough hours in the day to have a boy in every borough. Though we basically pop out of the womb multi-tasking (wait — doesn’t everyone cut their own umbilical cord?), the last thing we want love to be is efficient. I would gladly turn off my phone off in order to make out with you in the rain as long as you explain to my boss why his dry cleaning is wet.
Now would be the point in the post where I start talking about some impromptu picnic, glorious sunrise hike, or midnight movies make-out session — all these awesome places my dating life has taken me on — all of those stories would be great to have told but instead of getting my “butterflies” on I am sitting here at work adding commas, frothing coffee, doing everything except for making googly-eyes at someone.
I’ve heard there is this thing somewhere called balance where people go to work and then go home and do everything else that makes them a complete person. Not so much in my world. We tend to burn the midnight oil…until 2am. Before you bust out the cheese to go with my whine know this: I love making movies, talking about movies, talking about making movies. I love the shit out of the career path I’ve freely chosen. Yet as deep as that love runs I’m sadly coming to learn that when you give so much to your career, your personal life takes a huge hit. One could say it comes with the job description, it’s what you sign up for etc. Yet sacrifice is hard pill to swallow in a world where women are told they can not only have their cake, they can eat it while having 20 orgasms during spinning class. Try saying the word sacrifice to anyone without kids or a mortgage. Go ahead. Try it.
So what’s the modern career girl to do? What exactly do you have to give up in order to have it all?
Anyone who’s ever spent time at a water cooler has heard the words “Work Husband/Wife”. This catch phrase is, of course, referring to a strong bond between two co-workers. Even if you’re not into the whole label thing, you know you’ve got one, the one whose lunch order you know by heart, sit next to at every morning meeting etc. That person who keeps you sane when times get tough and goes insane right by your side when times get tougher. Though you talk to your work husband/wife more than your mother (unless your mother tweets…so many things wrong with that mom!) the thought of being together in the real word doesn’t ever cross your mind. Your love exists between the hours of the morning bagel and the late afternoon cookie, and neither of you would want it any other way. Suffice to say, I’ve been lucky enough to acquire myself the best work husband in town: patient, honest, and sweet as hell. The only thing bigger than Kerry’s heart is his pecs. And while it doesn’t hurt to have endless blue eyes to gaze into while bitching about the day, the only “sparks” that occur between us are when one of us gets static cling on their sweatshirt. Though I didn’t so much ask Kerry, to be my work husband as I did tell him, I’d like to think that he’s happy to have me and my self-manufactured drama around. We form a nice balance. As one co-worker put it: “Kerry’s really nice and Jessie’s really… honest” (she’s just jealous as her work husband just left her for the UPS delivery man). Kerry and I are like pickle juice and whiskey — it works perfectly when put together, though you’ll never in a million years be able to understand why.
The coolest thing about the work husband/wife dichotomy is the honesty it promotes in terms of recognizing the emotional support often lacking in the work place. Why would you not want a partner in crime in the place you spend 28 hours of your day? Sure the office romance/affair is omnipresent nowadays, but the recent popularity of the work husband/wife scenario proves that sometimes you really are just looking for someone to listen (while keeping all your clothes on). I may be a few moon cycles away from meeting my soul mate — which is both exhilarating and exhausting to think about. Yet I take comfort in the fact that, in the meantime, I’ve got rock stars like Kerry to pick up the slack and keep my faith in the male creature going strong.
Lastly, if I’ve still got you, I’d like to state for the record that I do not think that love is dead (though I think it got a mild case of swine flu last year after I got dumped by the bi polar shopping addict…. on my birthday!) Nevertheless, I can clearly see love has gone through full recovery and is making one hell of a comeback. Men, dudes, guys, and even some boys (you can barely notice those new kinds of braces now) are all around who are willing to teach, play, ignite, frustrate, and move me. Though there hasn’t been one boy whose made me want to “put a ring on it”, there are several guys in my life right now who I know I could not make it through my days without.
Besides who ever said a soul mate has to exist in just one person? For now, I’ll work really hard at having fun while my real soul mate waits in the wings (of the airplane he owns) after all, he’s got his hands full for now buying me dark chocolate and reciting all the ways to say “that dress does not make you look fat.”
* Photos are examples of solid work marriages (from start to finish) Beth & Josh, Michelle & Ben, Jessie & Kerry
