Where I’ve Been
The feeling of owing just under 1,000 strangers an explanation of my actives lately is a weird one- like the time I was tipsy off $5 dollar glasses of wine at the Lego store in Chicago. Lots of changes over the summer, which I hate. New apartment, new job, new glasses prescription, no more Lean Cuisines. I hate change. If I could wear the overall shorts I wore almost every day when I was six, I totally would- and I could, if I were comfortable looking like a socially awkward whore. Some things haven’t changed though: same boyfriend, still not saving any money, still getting told I look like Anne Hathaway- still not sure if that’s a compliment.
I must admit though, I have been a little daredevil as of late. Dappling on the experimental side. For example, I have changed my steak order from well done to medium well. I have also gotten particularly good at spotting police cars during my fifty minute commute. Last year at this time I had three cats and a dog. Now I just have a different dog. That’s not supposed to be funny; it’s just something that happened.
Since I haven’t had the desire to do drunken embarrassing things lately it has given me a large chunk of time to reflect and consider what I want to do with my life. I have 17 drafts right now of blog posts that all started comical and such, but turned out like Romeo + Juliet; where it sounds like a really good idea in theory, but ends up getting sad in a super uncomfortable way where the only good part was that one Radiohead song.
This is the best way I can explain where those drafts went. Like this one time my babysitter told me should could make my little sister disappear, like really disappear, and never come back. Then she made some angsty, passive aggressive, teenager comment to my eight-year-old self about how everyone has to die someday. If I submitted you to reading those drafts I would be that babysitter and you would be adorable, innocent, self-dressed me dancing to Frank Sinatra in your living room, taking it way too seriously, and then you would hate magic shows for the rest of your life. I don’t want you to hate magic shows so I didn’t post them.
Once my life is in a happier place, also known as financial security, I will transition back to my old mindset. I used to complain about breaking a heel off my Target boots, hello they are Target boots what the hell do you expect, and how one word texts are the 21st century devil. Now I complain about gas prices going up five cents during the week, and how difficult it is to stay awake until 9:30 to watch Parks & Rec. I am, without a doubt, turning into my parents. The only thing barring me from a full transition to the fictional realm of adulthood is getting excited when I see deer along the road. The kind that is still alive.
Whatever, I still think newborn babies look like aliens so it’s comforting to know some microscopic speck of my mediocre existence hasn’t altered. That will probably change in my late twenties or early thirties, pending marital status. Just kidding I’m a young woman in 2012 in America; I don’t need a man to have a baby! I just need a man to buy me Chinese food, and set up my cable, and twist open really tight nail polish bottles that still don’t work after the rubber band trick- you know, the important stuff in life.