STRANGER THAN FICTION: OLD AGE IS SETTING IN -- NOW I'M OFFICIALLY CROTCHETY

Not to sound like Andy Rooney, but there are some things really getting on my nerves lately.

I think it's the fact that my 30th birthday now is less than 11 months away. There are certain goals a girl sets for herself before she reaches 30. Becoming a homeowner, a mother, a successful career woman whose yearly raises amount to more than 30 cents per paycheck.

Yeah, that extra gumball each week is really improving my life. Hope I can foot the dental bill.

At least I married a nice guy, although that doesn't even carry the weight in female circles that it once did. Now the 'in' thing is to make it on your own and then get artificially inseminated.

So now I'm crotchety. Things have grated on my nerves these past few weeks that never would have normally. Or maybe they would bother anyone.

You be the judge.

Be a friend, make a friend

Remember your mother's advice: "To make friends, you have to be a friend."

Well Mom, I've put that to work. I've nearly lit my porch on fire trying to grill hamburgers for 20. I've had Super Bowl parties, cocktail parties and dinner parties. I've had intimate soirees and drunken bashes.

Now tell me this. Where is the reciprocation?

With the exception of a few, our friends are like social baby birds, waiting for some regurgitated fun to be dropped into their open beaks.

We recently were invited to go bowling. "Let's go bowling on Saturday night" were the exact words. "I'll call you."

Sure. I mean, I'm no ... well, I meant to insert the name of a famous bowler here, but I'm at a loss ... but I always have a good time on the lanes.

Saturday afternoon and night came and went. No calls. It was like being stood up for a date, only I had a husband to sit around staring at while waiting for the phone to ring. One of my girlfriends finally called. She was having some other girls over to watch movies, and did The Other Half and I want to come?

"I'm not going to that," Mr. Half said. "I'm sick of being the only guy at all your girl events. I can actually feel my testosterone levels dropping. I'll have breasts within the year."

"Bye," I told him.

Wedding fever

There are no fewer than three women and one guy at the office who are getting married this year, and it is driving me insane.

Of course, the guy is doing the typical guy thing -- hoping for a really kick-butt bachelor party and trying to remember the date, time and location of his wedding.

But the women are losing their minds. They've waited more than two decades for this year to come, and dammit, they're making the most of it.

WOMAN #1: Look everyone! I got my pre-wedding pictures back.

WOMEN #2 and #3: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Ohmigod, those are GORgeous.

WOMAN #1: Are you sure my butt doesn't look too fat?

WOMAN #2: Absolutely not. So anyway, I'm trying to decide whether to make my bridesmaids just wear simple strands of pearls or nothing at all.

WOMAN #3: Definitely a simple strand of pearls. Anything else would just RUIN the whole look with the dresses you chose.

And on and on it goes.

I'm thinking maybe it's not so much the women who have a problem but me. I had always dreamed of wearing a puffy white number and walking down the aisle behind a bevy of bridesmaids. I ended up wearing a black pant suit in the park next to the Cape Girardeau County Courthouse. Luckily, my friends from the newspaper were able to walk across the street to watch before heading downtown for Happy Hour.

Television reruns

Since my social life is in the toilet these days (see above), I'm depending more and more on television for my entertainment.

So what's up with all these reruns in the middle of the season?

I mean, the sitcom promos shout "ALL NEW" as though they're not actually expected to have new shows in the middle of the season. Take Must See TV several times over the past few months -- you can't even follow the beautiful Friends' love-lives because of all the jumping around. Ross is married, he's not married, he loves Rachel, he loves Emily. Geez! And don't even TRY to keep up with ER.

So there are the things getting on my nerves lately. Am I right to be upset or just becoming a crotchety old woman?

Eh, who cares what you people think.

I'm going to the park to shake my cane at some loud children.

~Heidi Nieland is former Southeast Missourian staff writer who lives in Pensacola, Fla.