Wednesday, January 21, 2009

2AMDBC

I'm finding that I am getting too old for a great many things.

Phone calls at 2 AM? Too old for that.

I think I'm on the verge of a quarter-life crisis. I turn 23 soon, and while it's not the end of the world, it sure feels old as fuck to me.

Emaleigh is 16 this year. I held her immediately after she was born. I changed her diapers. I tricked her into eating lemons by calling them candy [I'm sure she loves that I'm telling these stories] and now she's going to be getting her driver's license.

I'm terrified that I've already failed at life, and really I haven't even started it.

I have two visions of myself as an old lady. One is a crazy old bat who yells at children and spies on her neighbors. This is quite feasible [I'm not always the peachiest of people]. I alphabetize my DVDs for crying out loud. I shelve my books like I work for Barnes & Noble. I HAVE A TRAY DEDICATED TO PERFUME because one thing I am OCD about is items that are and are not allowed to sit directly on a countertop.

The other is this darling hippie with long silver hair who bakes obsessively and makes sure her living room always smells of sandalwood and her bedroom of lavender.

I'm really hoping for the second. I'm also hoping that she's not homeless, perhaps moderately well-known in the art world.

As much as I'd like to know for certain where I'm headed, the fact that I'm feeling old and a failure is killing me.

Everyone my age is so obsessed with figuring out their lives immediately. All my pop talks about these days is my ten-year plan. I feel like an ass that refuses to plow. I just want to be young and free while I can.

I want to wake up tomorrow and drive to Chicago. Run around the city laughing at the top of my lungs. Befriend a drag-queen named Connie Lingus and giggle while people sing Journey in a tiny karaoke bar. Bump into a friendly stranger on the sidewalk outside of a little coffee shop and share a picnic the same afternoon.

Life has become far too predictable lately.

All I want is randomness.

I don't think I'm ready to grow up just yet. Problem is, life presses on at the same breakneck speed whether you want it to or not.