Sorry, you were hoping for porn, weren’t you?

13 Feb

I may as well get this out of the way; this blog will not contain any porn.  Sorry, if that’s what you’re looking for.  Happy rubbing/spanking to you, but you’ll need to search elsewhere.  You know, since the word adult seems to be synonymous with porn these days, I thought that I would clear that up.

Rather, my title is a play on the word adolescence.  The past few years, the media has had a field day with my generation (late 20s-early 30s) and our supposed inability and/or unwillingness to grow up.  I wasn’t, but could’ve easily been THE case study to launch these stories.  Less than a year into my third decade (that’s a fancy way of saying that I’m 30), I am career-less (though I’ve certainly had a slew of jobs), unmarried, childless, perpetually in school bouncing from major to major, with a rather precarious financial situation.  Furthermore, I am car-less and nearly furniture-less (though I once had one of the former, and plenty of the latter).  Waking up before 7:30 a.m. is an aberration (okay, 8:00 a.m., actually) and bills are annoying scraps of paper that I will get to some time, in that proverbial time-space of ‘later’.

BUT, I my itunes account is pretty impressive.  I mean, my musical taste is pretty discerning, and, frankly, better than yours.  KIDDING!  Don’t get your panties in a twist.  No, but, really.  It probably is.  I have all but conquered hulu.  A little known fact about me?  I’m a movie critic.  Unpaid and unpublished, mind you, but in my mind I am.  Each and every movie that piques my interest must be viewed by me, so that I can promptly write pithy reviews- in my head.  I have an impressive collection of underused art supplies.  I have critically acclaimed yelp reviews (11 people thought one of my reviews was ‘cool’!  AND I have fans!) and perfectly crafted pandora stations.  I can make delicious meals, meals with lengthy ingredient lists, meals that end up being more expensive to make than to order at a restaurant.  Admittedly, I am nonetheless pretty likely to have a microwaveable meal for dinner. I have a guitar that I’m learning to play and well worn running shoes.  I can put outfits together like a m*****f***** and even help friends put together compliment-worthy ones of their own.  I have an eye for amazing finds.  Dinners out, coffee dates, and dive bars are musts.  My lonely savings account will be addressed later (again, that proverbial time-space).

What I’m trying to tell you is: my adolescence never ended.  Rather than developing a steady sense of responsibility, foundational learning and reaching some sort of achievement(s), I’ve spent the better part of my life just getting by, flitting about, reinventing myself more times than Madonna.  I’ve made dozens of excuses for myself over the years.  A few of my favorites: I’m an artist, I’m punk, I’m unconventional, I’m depressed, I feel anxious, this is the last time (spending money unwisely, waiting until the final hour to do something, etc.), I’ll start tomorrow (saving, acting with prudence, filling out and consulting my planner, etc.), I’m dealing with the emotional scars of growing up as a mixed race person in a racist, hickish town, I don’t want to be boring, I don’t want to be like them, I’d rather do this now and worry about everything else later, etc.

Am I getting a little carried away with my examples and illustrations?  Probably.  I’ll try to pare down.  Regardless of the excuse, for almost any reason, there is an answer.  I want to remind myself of those answers that I know, and find the answers to the ones that I don’t know.  I want to be proactive in my growth.  I am going to be defining adulthood on my own terms.  Part of my struggle to become an adult (in more than the chronological sense) IS that the traditional markers don’t all necessarily apply to me.  I’m not entirely sold on the idea of marriage.  This is a point of view firmly routed in rational thought and it’s not really one of the things that I’m out to change.  Ditto the idea of having children.  Or buying a house.  And, I’m somewhat ambivalent about the idea of owning a car.  If you ask me, the traditional markers are somewhat superficial and don’t tell us all that much about the person who acquired them.

And so, I want any and every external desire of mine to have an internal correlate.  I want to develop a sense of resounding responsibility, a mature grasp of communication, and solid base of prudence.  This doesn’t mean compromising my personality and becoming generic.  It means adding depth to who I am, and meeting my potential.  I am attempting to get to the core of what makes a person an adult.  I am moving away from perpetual adolescence to find and acquire: adult essense.  And there you have it.  It only took me 800 some odd words to tell you why my blog has the name that it does.

Very succinct, yes?

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