Jim and I went out to dinner tonight, just casually, since otherwise it would have been one of those "all day inside" weekend days (except for my teaching in New Hampshire this morning).
The great thing is that I say all sorts of random-ass shit when I've had a few glasses of wine.
For example, I expounded on the fact that I have come to believe fully that the biological clock actually exists, because when I see children I sometimes want to abduct them. The other day, I pulled up at a stoplight next to a minivan full of children. A young girl was definitely coloring, while two young boys in the way back (do people even say that anymore?) were having what was apparently a highly entertaining conversation. I almost started crying.
Of course, then I said to myself, "Shut up! You hate minivans!"
I also had to admit that I'm scared about the prospect of possibly leaving Portland. Granted, I hate that this town is so obscenely far away from my parents and from my best friend. I am also clearly a Seasonal Affective Disorder sufferer, in that I'm a depressed pain in the winter despite all the Prozac (hi, Mom! -- eh, not like she didn't already know) and that I get ridiculously energetic and bouncily happy about life when the days get longer and warmer -- none of which would have my forehead stamped with a "Life in Maine" tattoo if anyone got the choice.
But I also appreciate how easy this place is to navigate, how much time I have to get done all those daily chores that pile up, how great our supermarkets are (and how close), and how wonderful are the friends we've made here. Going somewhere else where I won't be as comfortable and as able to spend time learning the ropes -- even if it's only a vague possibility -- is frightening.
However! Given that our next move will probably land us wherever it is we're going to settle for at least the first big chunk of our life -- i.e., where most likely we'll have at least one child -- the prospect is intriguing. (Oh, right, and the job prospects that accompany it. Heh.) Regardless: Yes, I know that children don't arrive as fully formed toddlers, but if I have some small arms to wrap around my neck and call me "Mommy" in the next four or five years, I'll be pretty happy.
Tonight, the Final Four will have to suffice. Root for UCLA, as Jim is the only one in his pool who has any members of the Four correct. Not that he'll win anything but respect, but it's still rather exciting. Wooo! Bruins! Wooo!