The Dreaded 'M' Word

Call me temperamental if you wish, but today I had just had enough of certain housemates. I got home to find the same old cesspool, inhabited by chauvanistic, racist and rude 'blokes'. I bared it for all of ten seconds before making more snide remarks and leaving. It's bitchy and I feel like such an overly-sensitive brat for just walking out, but I think they need to remember that a girl lives here too. It's not exactly welcoming to me for them to converse exclusively about parts of female anatomy and what they would like to do to them.

Today marked 21 months with Lucien. It is a long time. On the train this morning, I ran into my friend Jason who said, "21 months? It's been too long - break up or get married already." Sure, Jason is a bit of a dork whose track record with relationships is very sketchy, but he has a point. It is scary that I am being urged to consider the 'm' word by people, jokingly or not. I am 18 years old - sure, people would get married at 16 in the old days, but I'm far too young. It is hard to imagine how quickly girls would have to grow up back then, becoming wives and mothers before they had reached their twenties. Having to accept or reject a man that they would spend the rest of their life with, before they would have been old enough to drive, drink or vote - one of the most important things in their entire life, something that would eventually become a part of them and define their role.. and they were being encouraged and perhaps even pushed into it when barely out of training bras.
But I suppose for a woman in days gone by, a husband really was the only thing that there was to define you, unless you had other 'attributes'. In Jane Austen's Emma, the title character sees no shame in being single because of her respectability and wealth, but things are different for women in other positions (ie. Miss Bates). For Emma, being an old maid is not such a terrible fate if you have enough of your own 'steam' (wealth, title, status, etc) to support yourself as an outstanding member of society. It is a horrid thing to view a woman only in terms of her husband, or her father's wealth/title.. but things really were like that once.
I'd like to think that things have changed, but there is still so much more to be done. Once in a relationship, is a woman expected to cease being a separate entity? I couldn't be merely an attachment of someone else; I wouldn't take it. But a lot of people insinuate that such an arrangement is just the way that things ought to be.
For me, marriage is something that doesn't actually mean that much. It's just a word, a piece of paper. It can't keep people together if they don't love each other, and people can quite easily and happily stay together forever even if they are not married. So what is the point? I suppose being 'married' would just really confirm and slap a label on something that already was.

Lucien is managing to surprise me more and more, which is quite a feat for the boyfriend of a girl who demands surprise constantly. He's coming to visit me on Wednesday, planning to take me out for dinner and some other things that he is keeping under wraps. I'm looking forward to it so much... these last few weeks have not left much time for us. I'm actually quite proud of myself for taking it with such good nature - previously, I would have been a crumpled mess of a girl by this time, probably sobbing on the phone or desperately catching late trains to him. I think I'm doing well this time.

It was a glorious night tonight. Lucien was unfortunately detained - he had a major essay to hand in today, and has to give a big presentation on Wednesday. But I found a willing playmate once again in the form of Paul. I was dead-set on going for an adventure, but what we ended up doing was so much more fun than any traditional adrenaline-pumping activities. Yummy pizza with pumpkin and rocket, fascinating conversation over tea at the Westin, antics with a shopping trolley at the university. We got sort of yelled at by a drunk/drug-addled busker in the subway. We took some pictures of the clocktower in the dark.. it looked so beautiful with the nighttime clouds around it, reflecting in the moat (which I stupidly stuck my foot in to see how deep it was, making my foot slimy). I also came up with the brilliant idea of snorting ground pepper, just to see what would happen. Tres amusing for everybody around, I'm sure! But generally, the night was an absolute success. I drove Paul crazy with my indecisiveness though...
It turned out to be the most fun I have had in a long time.. reminding me a little of the type of fun I'd have with Louise when we'd get into crazy moods. I am a little sad that she decided to run away to Queensland, but I suppose that the lack of her has made me more likely to make other friends too! She'll be glad to come back and find me a little more independent.

Back at my apartment now, and it's not quite as bad as when I left. The boys were being relatively civil and even friendly - the main offender had already gone to bed by the time I got in (past 1am!).

The calm won't last though.. it never does.