Trouble



When I was in Mexico, I had a conversation with two 17-year-old girls that went a little something like this:



First 17-year-old girl: Do you have a boyfriend?

(giggles from both 17-year-old girls)

Me: No.

Second 17-year-old girl: Why not?

Me: Men are trouble.

Second 17-year-old girl: But they're such fun trouble.

(even louder giggling from both 17-year-old girls)

Me: I've had enough trouble for a while.



Besides, who needs first-hand trouble when I can live vicariously through all my friends' troubles? There's the friend who is in the process of lining up a new boyfriend while her soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend still lives in her house, the friend who emphatically declares her current lover is "so not my boyfriend!" while helping him unload boxes of clothing and his big screen tv into her apartment, the friend who has taken up with yet another balding dude whom she met through a guy who's heart she broke a few summers ago, the friend who can't stand her husband but would never consider leaving him, the friend who's husband left her but can't quite cope with the loss...well, the list of troubles goes on and on. It's amazing anyone ever manages to get together happily at all.



But even I can't remain cynical forever, and I have to admit that once the 100 degree heat wave broke last week, I began to feel a little hungry again for romance. Despite having a front-row seat to endless trouble, I think I'm almost ready to find a little bit of trouble of my own again.



Almost.

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