What's A Year Between Friends?

So I definitely put off updating for long enough, my procrastination prerogative is fully satiated.

It's no good, you guys; I can't stop thinking of things I'd love to rant to you about. I have no time and hardly any audience, but the hell I say; damn the cheesemongers and bring on the posts!

Should've labeled it

"CERTAINLY NOT Doodles"

There's nothing like full-time 9 to 5 office work to stimulate an almost desperate level of creativity, as one's own imagination attempts to achieve escape velocity from grim reality. My guilty little stack of doodles, snatches of song lyrics and other bits of inner-head dandruff bear witness to this. Meanwhile the return-mailing project remains entirely unaddressed, because I have my priorities properly wiggly.

I have made huge strides in my job skills since last I posted, in that I can now sometimes talk to my boss without having a panic attack. Not much else has improved; I seem to be surprisingly conform-and-obey-resistant. It's not a mark of character, I assure you; I'm not fightin' the power, I just lack the aptitude. However, I can put on earrings and high heels like a champ, so they think I'm an adult. The fools.

Magical-girl transformation

sequence: ACTIVATE

I have definitely begun my magical-girl transformation into a grownup, though; I recently cleaned out my sock and underwear drawers, and Loved. It. It was like giving my whole psyche a scrub and brushup. I went through my wardrobe, cleared out all our bedroom shelving, and redid my office setup...I'm an organizing fool! Or, alternately, a total tool. When did I buy into this well-organized malarky? Couldn't tell you, for the brainwashing is now complete. I used to be a Hot Topic rebel, spike-collared and antagonistic to strangers at the mall; I knew the score, and was free from the lies of tidiness, timeliness, or any other -ness you'd care to name. What happened?

This is not rhetorical; I think I know, actually.

Kids find out somewhere between ages 3 and 13, based on the individual's level of observation or their parent's IQ, that adults are stupid and boring. They then commence to rail against these wastes of humanity that gave them the precious gift of life in ever-increasingly intelligent rants as they progress towards the second pivotal point, which can occur any time between 17 and 27, depending on apron-string strength, level of education or the advent of a family tragedy. This is the point at which all the adult-imposed structure and well-intentioned plans draws to their scheduled close and the young human, suddenly shorn of a sheltering scapegoat to be "held back" by, stands before the realities of life, survival, the need for food and rent money...and suddenly loses all aspirations to the soapbox or personal principle.

People are remarkably conservative and unimaginative when presented with a sudden dose of total personal responsibility.

You find the job, the apartment and the person to live in it with, and batten down the hatches against both reality and old dreams of grandeur. CSI reruns, takeout and saving up long enough to buy the new iThing shape your world, and by the time you resurface from this womblike regression from that shock enough to get a decent job, make some sound investments and gain the ability to vacation every other year, there's no hope left; you've bought in to everything your parents stood for, and you're shopping for durability, searching for stability and trying to watch your cholesterol. The world is hard, and whenever the moment is that the young person faces that fact, is the moment the transformation begins.

“Looks like he was a real go-getter, huh Pete”

“Sure does, Bob”

And yes, of course there's exceptions to this; sometimes people see opportunities and possibilities, not just obstacles. And I think most anyone on a good day can talk themselves into taking on at least one of their obstacles and making an opportunity for themselves, it's nowhere near impossible. But have you noticed how many of those opportunity-makers, movers and shakers, tend to be outlined in white on CSI? Hmm? HMM? Inactivity sees you through, says I; and have you seen my new iPod? It can hold 160 gigs! I can take alllll my music with me on our next vacation.