Here, Vibes

Background: Years and months and days enduring the approach of an age (much too early by some standards) that apparently demands love and marriage and such.

Current Status: No love or marriage or such.

Scene: Crisp autumn evening in an NYC cab with 2 dear loved ones, both female relatives. On our way to dinner.

Conversation: Nothing and everything.

The Plot Thickens When: In pure "jest," I receive a "You bloody idiot - what are you doing with your life? You need to send some good vibes" from one female relative.

Vibes.

In addition to hopefully building a career and pursuing higher education, I'm apparently supposed to be worried about said vibes. Apparently, I don't have them. Apparently, they are what I should be emitting from my radiant self to attract any number of good Y-chromosomes my way. Apparently, it is my fault that I am not.

Since no clear definitions or plan of actions were offered, I'll literally take this to mean that I should hike up my skirt, pull down my shirt, and perform a mating dance.

Here, vibes.