the older I get...
I sit in a bedroom in Glendale listening to "Foolish Beat" by Debbie Gibson on repeat via Spotify.
The differences between teenage me and 40 year old me:
-I am not listening to a lopped cassette or record or even a small portable radio that went with me from room to pool to bathroom.
-There are huge portions of my prodigious amount of hair that are white. I know, I know. I'm obsessed. It's all part of this acceptance thing I'm going through.
-I am no longer a virgin, but then I bet Debbie isn't either. To be honest, I wouldn't want to be a virgin any longer. I had way too much fun with *cough cough* just a few men in the last 20 years.
-I pay a lot of money to sit in this bedroom in Glendale listening to 80's music.
-Kids, don't ever move away from home. The free rent thing combined with home-cooked dinners when you get home from work? You will miss it. So much.
-Funny thing, I think my parents would have let me live with them forever. In the end, it was me who knew that I had to break away though. Mostly because I couldn't have sex in my parents home with random strangers I met in a bar.
KIDDING.
-I worked with him. Also, he was my one true passion.
-When teenage me sat in my bedroom listening to love songs, my dream partner was him. Beautiful long hair, rebellious nature, popular, handsome, and in love with me. He was everything I had ever dreamed of. He was my Jordan Catalano, my Jake Ryan, my Maxim de Winter, my Rochester. All of it and so much more and so much less as it turned out.
-The divide between what you want as a teenager and what you want as a young adult rarely meet I think.
-Back to me, I weigh probably about 40 lbs more than I did as a teenager. Not that I could tell you this with certainty because I was convinced that I was fat when I was a teenager. Obsessed with it so much that my self-esteem was lower than low all through my 20's. It wasn't until I turned 30 and got some perspective and acceptance about my body that I realized how many years I wasted thinking I was a blubber-y whale of a girl.
-I wish I had had more confidence when I was young.
-If I had had more confidence, I probably would have been out with silly, suburban boys instead of laying on the floor of my bedroom daydreaming about long-haired rockers who would kiss me out of my solitude.
-Funny. I don't really need a boy to kiss me awake any longer. Hopeless romantic me might still yearn for that in her heart, but 40 year old me knows that it really, truly isn't necessary.
-Now my white hair and I sit in my paid-for room in Glendale drinking coffee listening to 80's music and ruminate on long ago dreams via a blog that no one reads.
It's not all that different after all.
Except for the white hair.
The differences between teenage me and 40 year old me:
-I am not listening to a lopped cassette or record or even a small portable radio that went with me from room to pool to bathroom.
-There are huge portions of my prodigious amount of hair that are white. I know, I know. I'm obsessed. It's all part of this acceptance thing I'm going through.
-I am no longer a virgin, but then I bet Debbie isn't either. To be honest, I wouldn't want to be a virgin any longer. I had way too much fun with *cough cough* just a few men in the last 20 years.
-I pay a lot of money to sit in this bedroom in Glendale listening to 80's music.
-Kids, don't ever move away from home. The free rent thing combined with home-cooked dinners when you get home from work? You will miss it. So much.
-Funny thing, I think my parents would have let me live with them forever. In the end, it was me who knew that I had to break away though. Mostly because I couldn't have sex in my parents home with random strangers I met in a bar.
KIDDING.
-I worked with him. Also, he was my one true passion.
-When teenage me sat in my bedroom listening to love songs, my dream partner was him. Beautiful long hair, rebellious nature, popular, handsome, and in love with me. He was everything I had ever dreamed of. He was my Jordan Catalano, my Jake Ryan, my Maxim de Winter, my Rochester. All of it and so much more and so much less as it turned out.
-The divide between what you want as a teenager and what you want as a young adult rarely meet I think.
-Back to me, I weigh probably about 40 lbs more than I did as a teenager. Not that I could tell you this with certainty because I was convinced that I was fat when I was a teenager. Obsessed with it so much that my self-esteem was lower than low all through my 20's. It wasn't until I turned 30 and got some perspective and acceptance about my body that I realized how many years I wasted thinking I was a blubber-y whale of a girl.
-I wish I had had more confidence when I was young.
-If I had had more confidence, I probably would have been out with silly, suburban boys instead of laying on the floor of my bedroom daydreaming about long-haired rockers who would kiss me out of my solitude.
-Funny. I don't really need a boy to kiss me awake any longer. Hopeless romantic me might still yearn for that in her heart, but 40 year old me knows that it really, truly isn't necessary.
-Now my white hair and I sit in my paid-for room in Glendale drinking coffee listening to 80's music and ruminate on long ago dreams via a blog that no one reads.
It's not all that different after all.
Except for the white hair.
