Super Tuesday!

Today's an important day. Most of the United States sees it as Super Tuesday, a huge day in politics. Here, the importance of this day is that it's an excuse to get drunk on a Tuesday. Yes, in this town, the important thing about today is that it's Fat Tuesday. Not Mardis Gras, that was the past weekend. Not even French speakers make the connection. For those of you who don't speak the language, Mardi Gras is French for Fat Tuesday.

So, while much of the world is monitoring CNN, the locals, ignorant that history is being made at this very moment, are drinking their beer. Yet, they'll be the ones complaining when a "muslim" (as many seem to think Obama is) or a "woman" is president.

Another testament to the ridiculousness (I know this isn't a real word) of many people around here is how many people voted for John Edwards, despite the fact that he dropped out of the race several days ago.

Why Can't I Get Just One Job?

It is so hard to get a job here. There is such a limited number available. I've been searching for three weeks now and the only response I've had is from Home Depot. Unfortunately, Home Depot is almost three miles away from where I live, and I don't have a car. There is also no form of public transportation available here. So I'm deciding if I need a job bad enough to bike three miles there, then three miles back every time I work. I'm poor, but that's a lot of biking. It's quite a dilemma. It wouldn't be so bad if it was a straight shot to Home Depot, but the way there takes some roads that are a fairly dangerous. There's no space on the side of the road, and there are a lot of stupid drivers around here.

So, what to do? Stay poor and safe, or have money and risk getting hit by a car daily? I'm yet to decide.

I wouldn't have this problem if we had a subway. Or a bus system. Or even taxis.

Getting Laid

Yet another of the unpleasant things about living in a small town is that you can't have casual sex. I'm not the type of girl to just hop into bed with anybody, but sometimes a girl just needs to get laid. However, in this town, everybody knows what everybody else is up to. Which means no one-night stands, no fuck buddies, nothing. Because if you do, everybody will know. And they will judge you. You really don't want to run into your best friend's mom at the town's only grocery store and know that she knows you have casual sex. And, because I live in th emiddle of the Bible Belt, where sex before marriage will earn you an express ticket to hell, you know you're included in their daily family prayer.

Now I'm faced with a dilemma. Do I go hit the bars, risk fending off drunk townies for an evening in hopes of finding one good apple, or do I just stay home watching reruns of Without a Trace. This weekend, I chose the latter. As I'm sure I will until I get so desperate I break down and hit the bars. Or I somehow manage to land a boyfriend. But, if the relationship lasts more than one month, then I'd have to deal with all the questions about when we're getting married. Living in a small town sure is hard on my sex life.

Small-Town Saturday Nights

I'm sure a lot of people blog about their fabulous Saturday nights. They probably discuss the wonderful clubs, parties, or restaurants they went to. Well, in rural areas, such as where I'm from, the options are a little bit more limited. In places like this, there are bars and parties.

In my ideal world, bars are where people go to socialize in a relaxed setting while having a few drinks. In the rural midwest, bars are where legal adults go to get drunk. You don't even have to be of age if you know the bartender and you've memorized the police schedules or are friends with the policemen.

Parties are more accessible to everyone in my age range, but available less often. One has to have some kind of excuse to throw a party. If not, it's just a bunch of drunkards hanging out to music. However, this doesn't seem to bother very many people, and they still try to pass off events like that as the event of the year. Where I come from, there are only three kinds of parties. They are house parties, frat parties, and field parties.

If you still live with your parents, house parties only happen when they are foolish enough to leave town. If you have your own house, you avoid throwing house parties at all costs because you will then be expected to host them all the time. As hosting a house party usually ends with the host scrubbing dried vomit off the toilet seat the next morning, it is not a desirable position. Those who make that mistake once seldom make it again.

If you live in a rural college town, like me, there are frat parties. It's an opportunity for the fraternity to get all the girls in the town together. They know girls will come because there's nothing else for people to do on a Saturday night. Lucky them, not-so-lucky us. We can stay at home, or deal with drunken men trying to cop a feel on the dance floor (and by dance floor I mean over-crowded basement with borrowed speakers set up).

If one is not so fortunate as to live in a town with fraternities, one attends parties in cow fields.
I'm not joking. Police- and weather-permitting, everybody circles up their cars in a remote field, sets up lawn chairs, and drinks beer. The person with the best car stereo gets to be the dj.

Unfortunately, my tastes are a little bit classier than any of the above-mentioned options. Which is why I'm at home, alone, blogging on a Saturday night.

What would you do?