Archive for the 'Growing up is optional' Category

Quarter Century

October 26, 2008 | Filed under: Growing up is optional

“Wisdom doesn’t necessarily come with age. Sometimes age just shows up all by itself.” ~Tom Wilson

When my mother gave me the photo below she got a little misty eyed and then went on to tell me about how easy childbirth was for her and how she woke up and was ready to push and tra la la, she had a baby. Sadly, that was probably the easiest part for her. And I doubt that when looking at my face as a baby she ever thought that I would grow up to curse like a sailor. Though if either she or my father were forced to answer they’d tell you that yeah, after 25 years, they like me. At least a little bit.

This is going to be a good year. I just have this feeling.

A lesson before 25

October 22, 2008 | Filed under: Growing up is optional, Inebriated prose, La Madre

“At sixteen I was stupid, confused and indecisive. At twenty-five I was wise, self-confident, prepossessing and assertive. At forty-five I am stupid, confused, insecure and indecisive. Who would have supposed that maturity is only a short break in adolescence?” ~Jules Feiffer

A few important lessons I’ve learned over the last several weeks:

• Flirt shamelessly but be discreet
• Shapewear might make you feel as if you’re extremities are lifeless due to lack of blood flow BUT it’s your friend
• Purchase clothes for the size you are now not the size you hope to be once Jillian Michaels is done kicking your ass
• Baby-sitting is the best form of birth control ever
• Though you may be full of envy and jealousy, just be happy on the outside. It will make you feel better to let your friends know that their happiness is far better than your own stupidity.
• Some people are perpetually grumpy (and fuck ups). It’s their problem. Never make it yours.
• When in doubt, leave it out.
• Wear a slip
• Use primer before make up
• Less talk. More action
• Think less. Write more.

Happy Birthday, Dear Hermit*

October 19, 2008 | Filed under: Growing up is optional, Humdrum

“It doesn’t hurt to be optimistic.  You can always cry later.”  ~Lucimar Santos de Lima

I’ve been so reclusive for the last two weeks that my cat and I have been seen bonding on the couch, snuggled up against one each other and possibly purring. I don’t usually give myself birthday presents but this year I decided to take my misanthropy on the road. Though when surrounded by several million people in midtown Manhattan, that isn’t really misanthropy but I was able to (surreptitiously) live within the confines of my head for an entire day while smiling and having a grand old time. By the end of Saturday, entirely fueled by liquid courage, I had met my match and my newest city BFFE. Now I’m rolling around thinking a little bit more of myself than I have in the past several days, weeks…eh…even months. I think that newness - ideas, people, things - can perk up one’s feathers a bit. Even if - and y’all know me - it only lasts until Thursday. That’s still five solid days of my not wanting to use my eyes as laser beams and shoot the stupid out of another’s brain. It’s a start.

*I still have yet to hit my actual birthday. One week until lower car insurance rates. Yee-motherfucking-haw!

Lofty

September 24, 2008 | Filed under: Growing up is optional, Once Upon A Time.., Whoa feelings

“Establishing goals is all right if you don’t let them deprive you of interesting detours.”  ~Doug Larson

Once upon a time I had exactly two long-term goals. Remember that when you’re 21 going on 22 ‘long term’ is fairly relative and 35 is like practically dead. The two goals were: 1) Make an appearance in the Washington Post Express 2) Make at least $35,000 a year. It took me roughly six months to achieve both of those goals because I like to really reach for the stars when making plans for my life.

25 isn’t the be all, end all of a person’s life for clearly much more will occur but it holds some significance - arbitrary by society’s standards and self imposed by my own - regardless I want it to be a good year. I’m not requesting perfection in the slightest. I’m far too cynical, pragmatic and neurotic (and being a lush kind of hinders too much progress on any given day) to proudly declare that 25 will be The Best Year Ever. I’m just hoping for something a little better than the one before. I think that’s what we hope for in the long run; not for the ultimate to happen but for a little bit more each year. A little bit more happiness, laughter, fun and writing. It’s trite and cliche but we’re all trite and cliche and hoping for the best. We smile and pump our fists when we hit our respective goals even if to the outside world they seem to be nothing. The lowest of the low maybe. But on the inside we’re smiling and high-fiving with our personal cheering sections; because, yeah, I did it and I’m totally fucking proud.

I have goals for 25 and (for once) I’m not afraid to meet them.

Downer

September 18, 2008 | Filed under: Growing up is optional, Just asking

“…voting. Drinking. Car rental. Death. Welcome to our side” - Mrs. Flinger

Having a bout a hypomania often means starting one thing and promptly forgetting it because something else popped up in your face. I have a mind that wanders rampantly to all things simultaneously and at the end I kind of forget what I was thinking about prior because right now, while going through the paper mill known as my office, would be an excellent time to schedule that oil change. So during one of these mind excursions I went from thinking about returning phone calls to taking a trip to Texas this spring and how I would want to rent a car while there because I’ll be visiting friends who live way the hell out underneath an oil derrick or something and lo perhaps NOW is a good time to think about MARCH. Then I realized that by spring I won’t have to save an extra $750 to rent a car for 13 hours because I won’t have to worry about extraneous fees for losing a limb or returning the car minus a mile’s worth of gas or being under the age of 25 thereby making me responsible enough to have a child and go to war but not responsible enough to drive a car 20 miles. So! In the middle of that I counted down the days until my 25th birthday (38! I would like a wide angle lens, pearls and new car insurance) and then promptly came to the conclusion that after 25 life is pretty much a downer. I mean, you get these awesome birthdays that involve voting and drinking and then you get to rent a car without Hertz coming after you with a taser and after that there’s death and awesome bills to pay and car insurance. Met life: The gift that keeps on giving.

In the middle of writing all of this, my mother stopped by to say hello. We started discussing the economy and what would happen to my assets and 401(K) and then she decided that now would be the perfect time to remind me that I don’t get to retire for another 35-40 years. And now I’m banging my head on the desk and hoping that if I run around the parking lot naked someone will miraculously hit me with their Nissan. It’s all just death and taxes from here, isn’t it?

Aaaaand to continue with this hypomania induced nonsensical rambling about how awful and horrible it is to be an adult and have to be living and breathing and healthy while your checking account is about as dry as the Sahara in July; here is the PMSbuddy (courtesy of Sweetney’s linkblog). Which might be one of the most brilliant ideas ever especially since it seems that The Universe is PMSing as we speak hence the reason for why I’m bemoaning being forced to be alive after the age of 25 and for why I saw some woman lose her shit at the grocery store yesterday.