Crushing dissapointments about Adulthood

so the whole blogging classy thing? i dont know if it turned out the way it would in my head... so i decided to try funky blogging. im writing today while drinking a glass of orange juice and listening to discos greatest hits.

now, due to a conversation i had last night, i feel i must share. either i was the only kid who had awesome dreams of what adulthood would be like, or everyone else just had more realistic expectations than me.

see, when i was a young one (under ten) i was asked what i wanted to be when i grew up. well... i was quickly told i could not grow up to be a velocirapter. and that sucks. because if Jurassic Park taught me anything its that a velocirapter and me, were on the same page.

now, since i was being told i had to pick right then and there what i wanted to grow up to be and i was under the impression i wouldnt get a second chance i told them. i wanted to grow up to be Mad Max.

this answer was met with blank stares and the scent of my fathers shame at having allowed me to watch that movie as many times as my younger sisters watched disney. i was told that being Mad Max wasnt a job, nor could i grow up to be an australian man. so thinking quite hard i gave them my next answer.

well, at least this time i picked something that was a job. though i was quickly informed that x-wing pilots dont exist. i was congratulated for picking a job, but that i still wasnt grasping the concept. (i think this may have also been the leading reason i joined the military- ie air force- in a misguided belief that x-wings did exist and that i would probably be able to be there when they were revealed to the public)

now, i spouted off a few more things and finally my family gave up. this question would haunt me for years though. then, finally in the end of middle school i was asked again by a professional career councilor. when i told him i wanted to grow up to be Pam Grier i was told to leave his office. im sure he had thought i was trying to be a smart ass or waste his time but i was dead serious.

listen, i dont care what you say, Pam is BEAUTIFUL and talented and super awesome. i still want to be her or Mad Max when i grow up.

well, as you can probably guess i was never exactly counseled as to what career i should go into. people promptly gave up. but this leads to other things that started to blow me away with disbelief as i got older.

taxes- really? i barely make shit! and now im disabled, what else are you going to take? my pride? (on a side note, yes they would)
naps- what do you mean i dont get nap time at work?
my car- i need to register it, insure it, pass emissions, get a license, keep all the lights on and not drive fast anywhere? oh, and i almost forgot excise tax
bills- when did they start charging people for electricity or water?
rent- im pretty sure you dont really need to make me pay more than a dollar a square foot, so lets work this out.
dental- my face hurts and my horribly delayed onset of puberty struck again by only just now allowing my wisdom teeth to come in and you want to charge me how much PER TOOTH to remove them?
voting- i totally support this one, i just wish we could do it more often
travel- i really want to go on magical adventures and i need a visa, another visa, maybe a couple extra visas and entry taxes and fees just to see your country?
i didnt get tall- enough said.
looks- i know, i dont look like an adult, or even as old as i am. i get it. but stop carding me already and just get my drink
responsibility- great, now i have to remember to do my laundry, pay excruciating amounts of money to everyone but myself and be held accountable for everything- like sneezing in public. you would think people wouldnt overreact on that one (i curse you H1N1, you ruined having a cold!)
food- im pretty sure this stuff grows on trees and in the ground so why do i have to be charged the equivalent of you giving birth to it?
a house..... oh, im illustrating this one.

see, when i was young i though i would grow up to live in a hobbit hole in New Zealand, or maybe an undiscovered castle, or a space ship or something. now i completely scored apartment wise. but this place is no bat cave, no fortress of solitude. but it does have indoor plumbing.

now when i imagined this.... tree house castle? it was the dream home of fantasies! but alas. i am not rich, nor am i shallow and willing to hunt down people with money to marry and then force into buying my love and attention.

instead i have a 508 sqft apartment. which rocks, dont get me wrong, but its no castle/tree house/space ship.

so instead to work out these feeling of frustration i play Fallout (3 is my favorite but New Vegas is awesome), go to Burning Man, and read voraciously.

this is also why i think my whole wardrobe make me look homeless, or if you squint your eyes a little, like an extra from Mad Max or the Postman.

now, when asked what i want to be when i grow up i tell people i want to be happy. they ask if i want to be famous. i would say not really. fame costs privacy and i treasure mine. they ask if i want to be super sexy. im ok with my body, were working out the rough patches in our relationship and frankly bigger tits would scare me if they were on me. talk about overdoing a good thing. do i want to be successful? of course, but i think our definitions are different.

i want to be happy. and if that means i cut my hair short, watch silly movies, paint, draw, sculpt and cook... so be it. mr beast, madame foo foos and i are one big happy family that i have to vacuum up after at least once a week and thats ok.

so far being an adult hasnt been terrible. plus, i can still dream and play make-believe.

so if adulthood is getting you down, hit me up. ill take you hiking in the deserts of arizonaland and pack a picnic so we can dine in style in the beautiful wastes.