Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Miss Murder

There was a time when I thought I was a punk. I loved AFI and Guttermouth, my “boyfriend” (could I really call him that? We dated for two months and it seemed like eternity) had a bi-hawk, I thought anime was the end-all-be-all and if I could die drawing it well, then that was truly a life lived.

Then I went to college, life bubbled up, I stopped swearing so much as a courtesy once I entered the workforce and here I am today, as confused as ever. At dinner the other night, a southern belle and I discussed our burgeoning lives, our fake hopes as women of the world, our disappointments that the used-to-be-supporters of us sought to contain our glow, and for me at least, I haven’t even begun to burn brightly for a moment, and yet, it was still too much, too selfish, too weird, too much of New York and small spaces, big dreams, big egos, pressure cooking instead of slow sighing steam.

I thought, that night, that two years might as well be a million miles ahead of me; I can’t even see the speck on the horizon. Then I spilled our white anchovy-laced Caesar salad to the chagrin of our blue-eyed waiter. I wanted to blame it on the wine, but the truth is this instead…I was simply the youngest girl in the room; I am the oldest child there ever was.

Sometimes I want that hard exterior again, not to be so pliable, so Zen, though that’s what I’ve become. All good feelings, all live in the moment if it benefits the world. That’s California thinking, and this is not California. It seems here that attitude I outgrew in tenth grade would benefit me now that I have to make adult decisions: who I am, who I want to be, whom I want to be with. I don’t know how to make the tough calls, and the worst part is, I may never. There are no guarantees, there is nothing fair about living, there never was.

Sometimes I want a retractable shield I can release at will, pink hair that screams I’m different because I’m scared I’m not, a sarcastic smile, that caustic wit which had served me so well, until, of course, it didn’t…


PeeJ said...

What an awesome blog...

This was the post I thought I'd have to comment on because it was just so superbly crafted - but it was the retractable shield comment that struck a chord with me (well more struck me like a speeding freight train to be honest) because that's pretty much how I feel at times. Shout at the top of my voice in a faux-superhero drawl "Shields up" and just blat up something hard made of titanium to protect me from the outside world.

I think the quote of the day belongs to John Lennon - "Reality leaves a lot to the imagination"

Oh and thanks for stopping by Wonky Times.


Marty said...

Never grow up, my dear.


(I haven't, and don't plan on it.)


My Heart Runneth Over said...

Never ever ever grow up! Well a smidge if and when you have to but hang on to it and let me tell you there is nothing better, when done well than a sarcastic smile! ~M :)

Victoria said...

This is beautiful.

Pink Lemonade Diva said...

I wish I'd written this because I spill stuff at tables all the time and wonder when it will ever stop. If.

You're not alone.