i have just realised that dylan moran was right about adulthood:
"that’s why adults are confused a lot of the time. adults are terribly confused, messed up people. that’s because they forget, really, that they don’t have to pretend all the time. really, the fact is that you’re not an adult at all - you’re just a tall child holding a beer, having conversations you don’t understand…"
there is no such thing. we are all just tall children holding drinks and conversations that befuddle us, trying to appear unconcerned and calm, feeling on the inside like we're all about to be exposed for the bubble gum loving, my little pony collecting, short pant wearing frauds. what is this thing, adulthood? we don't even have a proper entrance into the ring in our society! no way to know you're "in". no bat mitzvah for me, just, you know, the embarrassment of my body going all sorts of weird and the boys suddenly shooting up in importance. and then having to pay for your own stuff, no more mom and dad footing the bill...
i had a conversation recently with a ridiculously intelligent friend who is a university professor and who had just gotten her tenure (at a time of serious university cut-backs, especially in areas deemed unimportant, i.e. anything that's not engineering or computers or science), and she admitted to feeling like a fraud. what the hell?
so yeah, adulthood: like the unicorn, it is a mythological beast about whose existence i have some serious doubts. after all, if you can't act grown up (on the inside) past 40, when is it likely to happen? never! that's when!