A Very Serious Illness.

This is a Public Service Announcement. You may be sick and not even know it. This is a serious illness, right up there with Swine Flu. The illness I refer to is Married People Malady, or MPM.

Here are the symptoms of MPM:
1. Think sending a Christmas card/letter is keeping in contact.
2. Create a blog for two purposes, and two purpose only: to talk about their kids more, and to excuse themselves from ever calling you again, because they are Married People now, and also Very Busy Parents. Hey, you can stalk them online, so what are you complaining about?
3. They create a blog and DON'T tell you, but tell your other friends, so you see their link on a mutual friend's blog. Hypothetically. And hypothetically I'm not bitter.
4. They send out periodic mass emails to "keep in touch" with everyone since they are so busy, and ask you to respond individually and let them know what's been going on in your life because... you are... not so busy? This, my friends, is when my Single Hackles go up. Except right now, since I'm unemployed and only have half a life. So feel free to ask me, because you will get a five page response. But usually? Totally busy. And STILL manage to keep up with my friends who send me real emails.
5. Act like they haven't been a "kid" for 40 or 50 years, when in fact, they were in college less than ten years ago. Of course, I know single people like this too. But it's the part where they have kids and all the sudden they start acting old.
6. They forget how to use Instant Messaging, even though their primary location for sending messages was at work, which has not changed at all. Apparently talking to single ladies about things like work and the weather is bad when you are married. Even for wifeys.
7. They have parties that they invite all their couple friends to. And not you. Although, if they really have MPM, and they do invite you, they behave like this:



P.S. If you do feel the urge to invite me, you better invite an only slightly taken Mr. Darcy, who likes me just as I am.

And as an ode to my current Saturday night plans, minus the alcohol and cigarette, but probably with the lypsynching and the Frasier.