The world is still full of surprises and magic.

I'm pulling up photo albums from my cousin Marcia on Picasa. She lives in Alaska, with her partner, Tiny [not a true-to-form-name]. My grandfather and his girlfriend are visiting these couple of weeks; they found a good deal on airline tickets. There have been photos of icebergs and boats and trams and all sorts of glacier-y Alaska type things. Then, oh then.

What is this album? Harley Day. My grandfather, 84, and his girlfriend, easily in her 70s, wearing leather and helmets and on motorcycles.

My grandfather is an active member of the American Legion. He was a member of the Mounted Police Force in Oakland County. He square dances and plays pinochle and likes peanut butter-banana sandwiches and butter-pecan ice cream.

He also rides a Harley with his girlfriend when visiting family in Alaska.

I hope to be as cool when I am old. He always let me read every single placard in the museums we visited when I was younger. For this, among many things, I will always love him, because no one else had the patience to let me do that.

Hey, Pollsters, Leave my Ring Finger Alone!

http://www.alternet.org/story/58453/

I'm a part of the mysterious swing voters for the 2008 elections!

The article is only too true; I cringe at family events and shoulder my lack of a partner-in-crime with unease and discomfort. Grouped with the youngsters [aged 8-18] my college degree, bill-paying-non-dependent status, or personal projects do nothing to cause my relatives to perceive me as grown-up. I pretend to be over it, but then I come home and mope about Bloomington and my apartment for weeks, over-analyzing everything I said, and everything I did along with everything everyone else said and did.

Particularly this:

In my generation, educated, financially independent women can control most parts of our lives. We choose our professions, invest our own income and buy our own properties. We have the freedom to travel wherever we want. We can participate in most sports. We make our own decisions about our health care. And let's not forget, we can vote. The only thing that we have no control over is who we love. For pollsters to take advantage of the one factor in my life that I have no control over seems incredibly careless.

And this:

Coming across this study at my desk puts me right back at dreaded family reunions: I might have graduated from college, climbed up the corporate ladder, or finished my first 10K race, but all I am ever asked is, "Why aren't you married?"

I'd like to say that my unmarried state is more than the classic waiting for Prince Charming. I'd like to think that finding myself and what makes me happy is more important than learning to be a good wife. Sometimes it's difficult to believe.
If some gentleman in my life had proposed in the past few years, would I have said yes? Would I still think that was the right decision today, in 2007?

I know it's a state of being for which I am spectacularly unready. I wish my relatives, who know me so ill, could be made to realize this without much screaming. Given that I don't plan on screaming and they don't plan on comprehending, I'll just parry it as I come, sounding more bitter and acid each Christmas.

Even though I think it is tactless, I'm proud to be a member of the swing voters circa 2008! [Except that I don't see myself doing too much swinging and I couldn't even begin to tell you who I would vote for...]