Sometimes people ask me that. I usually say, “I don’t know.” Sometimes, I have a snotty comeback. Occasionally, I throwout some shit line about already-settled-down middle America.
But now, I’ll say it’s because I’m waiting for my very own Logan Huntzberger.
Oh my god. I’m 28. If I had watched Gilmore Girls when I was younger, it would be over by now. This is embarrassing.