A Literal Ann, cont.
My mother is getting more unbearable about D.G. Now she brings her up all the time, usually to point out some manner in which she isn't good enough for me. "Where did she get that nose?" "She went to Such-and-Such College, you went to a much better school." "She's only a nurse. You're a lawyer! You at least deserve a doctor." Interestingly, by most of these avenues of logic I would also be too good for my own mother. I don't think she's really down on D.G.; my suspicion is she just thinks I could find someone more deserving to be
This is what I need, though. Most of my friends oscillate. Sometimes they fan the flame: my female friends in particular think it's "so romantic" and proffer promises of aid to "win her," which is sweet but sort of misses the true nature of the endgame--her happiness, not mine. Other times they tell me to a grow a pair and get over her. But what I really need is someone whose opinion I overvalue and whose approval I overseek to look at her profile and say, "Eh, she's just not that cute."
My mother's still a romantic, though. Yesterday I came downstairs and she handed me the wedding section of the New York Times. For those of you who don't know, this is pretty much what it sounds like. There's usually a main story about some artsy member of the American intelligensia who somehow manages to collide into his high school crush. My mother says, "Maybe this will be you and [D.G.] some day." All signs point to "no." We're not heading for the NYT. How dim can one hope grow?