So it looks like this blog isn't really going to have a consistent schedule. I'd love to tell you that I'm posting on such and such day every week, but I'm very busy and important (Read: keeping up with reality TV and making sure I don't get kicked out of my non-existent book club are full time jobs) so posts will come when they do and I'll throw notices up on Facebook and Twitter whenever I've been productive. If you wanna follow me on Twitter, I'm Lalalinzy24 - dumbass name I know, but I have over 100 followers and only like 60 of those are wannabe internet porn stars, so I can't start over now.
On to the blog.
I recently turned 30 and I became acutely aware of the fact that I'm officially an adult by age standards. Yes, I know they say you're an adult at 18, my standards are better than theirs.
When I was in 3rd grade, I thought 6th graders were about as mature as you could get. They sat all smug in the very back of the bus and swung their backpacks over only ONE shoulder. If that wasn't the epitome of maturity I didn't know what was. However, as I got older I came to the conclusion that the day you graduated college was definitely it - the moment you became an adult.
(I just actually laughed out loud, but if you ever catch me writing "LOL" on here, feel free to bitch slap me with a slinky.)
When I got out of college I immediately started freelancing, but that's not exactly steady income for the most part, so I also cocktailed at Second City Chicago. If you've ever served before, you know that waiters and waitresses are some of the biggest, most irresponsible partiers on the planet. So no, I did not immediately become a responsible adult at this time. I did, however, get to meet a number of famous actors and actresses including Dennis Quaid, who when greeted with the standard "Hello Sir, how are you this evening?" promptly responded with "WATER." It was that night I learned water was classified as a state of being. Thanks, Denny.
Freelancing didn't last forever and I eventually landed myself a job in the big bad world of Advertising. Adult job, adult life, right?
Wrong.
If I thought servers were partiers, I hadn't seen anything yet. Advertising execs and creatives work hard and play like 14yr olds who just discovered the key to their parents' liquor cabinet and stash of Playboy magazines. Three martini lunches, 2pm beer carts, playing flip cup with an executive worth well over $500K...this was not the time to become the adult I had envisioned.
These setbacks certainly weren't due to a lack of guidance as I was growing up. My parents taught me all the important lessons to get me where I needed to be - Don't do drugs. Pick a college major that will make it easy to find a job. Don't rack up credit card debt. I went on to personally test the credibility of all these hypothesis and can safely say that, yes, they check out.
That last one was easy for them to say since they grew up during a time when they actually had to get up and go somewhere if they wanted to buy stuff. I, however, have woken up at 3am with the TV still on and been faced with the ultimate question of "Why haven't my jeans felt like PJs this entire time?" and decided it's absolutely absurd that I've been forced to endure this awful material for so long and it would be a travesty to continue on a path of such leg torture.
So yeah, I turned 30 last October and it wasn't the number at first that told me I was an adult. There are subtle things like not being able to instantly drop 10lbs by cutting down my gum intake by one stick anymore. Enrolling in a retirement fund hit me pretty hard too. The HR dude predicted that I would retire in the year 2045. That's like some crazy space year. I imagine my savings will be just enough to get me into a cushy retirement home that floats somewhere in the atmosphere while all the residents talk about the good ole' days when kids spoke to each other on AOL instant messenger and not through this new-fangled telepathy crap.
Anyway, what's done is done. I've survived and made it to 30. I'm an adult. I actually pay when tax time comes around instead of receiving a fat government check and heading to Best Buy for Saved By the Bell DVDs (I'm So Soo SCARED!)
...how long do you think it took them to get approval on that very special episode? You think Elizabeth Berkley was worried a caffeine pill addiction would tarnish her image? I imagine she looked in the mirror after that aired and said to herself, "Fuck it. No going back now. Where'd I put that Striptease script?"
Alright time to wrap this up. I'm definitely not where I thought I'd be at 30. As a wee bit, I declared that when I grew up I wanted to be a "Home Dancer." This logic was solid - I wanted to dance, but didn't want to leave home, so I invented the career. Had that actually panned out and I didn't realize that I had the coordination of a dyslexic octopus, I'd probably be tap dancing in my parents' living room right now. I think we can all agree this worked out for the best.
No, I'm definitely not where I thought I'd be, but I don't think that's a bad thing and I take steps everyday to better myself. Just yesterday I let a dude cut me off in traffic and didn't honk or flip him off. Watch out Mother T!
I really don't know how to end this post.
Bye!
Here's my favorite thing from the internet today. Just MJ drinking vodka like a boss with two Little People.
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| Ballin' |
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