I’ve started waking up before 10 every morning. This is unusual for me. I’m still getting used to it, as you can see above. Doesn’t mean I have to look pretty that early! I’ve never been an early bird gets the worm type of person but it’s starting to grow on me. I won’t be a six or seven in the morning girl,ever. Ever. But this is better than my old noon wake up call. A sign of growing up, perhaps?
Speaking of growing up. Have you ever just wanted to yell “F***** grow up?’ to a select few? Lately, I have. Gah, all the blatant jealousy and hypocrisy and hate. Can’t we all just get along? Aren’t we too old for this? Especially to people a good amount older than me. I think after cursing at them I’d add in “I’m twenty, what’s your excuse?”
I will admit to stay out of things I occasionally lie. I don’t like lying, but with my friends to avoid controversy, I lie. I won’t say I don’t love drama. Who doesn’t? You probably lie if you say you don’t. But I like being an outsider. The girl in the Big Butts song who says “Oh my Gosh Becky look at her butt, it is so big.” I’m her. I don’t have the big butt, I enjoy talking about the big butt. I don’t like being sucked into having a big butt. Okay, awful metaphor of the year award. What I’m saying is drama is interesting and great, just don’t bring me into it. I don’t like being mean. I suck at being mean, unless you push me really hard or rub me the wrong way. Goodness, look at all this pushing and rubbing!
Back to lying, I stand firm on sometimes it’s okay to lie. Usually it’s not. But to avoid hurt feelings, are little white lies always bad? Would you honestly tell a friend, when you didn’t feel like talking on the phone anymore, that you had to go because you didn’t want to talk to them? A coworker when they asked, that their performance sucked? (Or a lover for that matter…?) I am the protector of feelings, and I just couldn’t do it. I say cross your fingers and know it’s for the best.
I woke up this morning with a sense of dread realizing my birthday’s in three months. I’ll be twenty-one. I should be overjoyed, I suppose. Should be. But I love how young I am. I don’t want to grow up. ( I’m tempted to throw in ‘I wanna be a Toys R Us Kid’ here.) I love people pointing out that I’m a baby, that I’m not of legal drinking age, that I’ m so so so young. I hear it’s all downhill from twenty-one. And I’m married now, my husbands an old man. I can drink in the state of Texas anyway, y’all! So can I just stay twenty? Getting old scares me. Dying scares me. Depends scare me. Yeah. Think I’ll just stay twenty.