Men Are Like Milk Duds

When my mother was my age, she was already settled into marriage (she tied the knot at the tender age of 21) and she and my pops were planning the arrival of their first child.

When my grandmother was my age, she was already an old ball and chain (quite a hot one if you take a look at the black and white pics) with two kids and a few more on the way.

Here I am in my mid-twenties without even a shadow of a domestic life, or a male partner in crime.

Yes, I can throw down in the kitchen like Giada De Laurentiis, but that doesn’t make me wife-ish. The point is that times have changed drastically since my grandmother’s time, not even touching on the fact that she came up in India, in a very oppressive atmosphere. No one expects me to have a boyfriend or a husband, the same way no one expected to my grandma to have a career.

Which brings me back to last week and the topic of expectations, the things we hope for from ourselves and others. No matter what a woman says, no matter how liberated and how much of a “player” she is, she always lets her imagination get a little carried away from her on a great first date.