Sunday, January 20, 2008

The Disillusion of It All

I really thought, well, that things would be different.

My whole life I couldn’t wait to be in my mid-twenties. Even through what many reminisce as the glory days of high school I knew that something brilliant awaited me. I was ready and willing to endure teen angst for that shining beacon of my twenties. Oh, how grand my twenties would be. Finally I’d effortlessly inhibit The Perfect Body (because by then hormones and all that stuff would have itself figured out), my hair would be the sophisticated and glamorous cut I’d be mature enough to upkeep, and I’d be a hard working and successful professional with a smart & equally perfect male mate of his early thirties (or late thirties, but with men you always have to subtract five years in order to get real life age). It’d be like the Cover Girl commercials say- easy and breezy and beautiful!

Let me tell you something: Here I am, smack dab in my twenties, and my life does not feel like a Cover Girl commercial. Not. At. All. I am in constant battle with my hair, I’ve been working hard long hours (really, usually 45-60 a week) at the same company for four years and I still make less than the average stripper. And for some reason people keep calling me Victoria, which is not my name. I’ve had a string of boyfriends, man interests and mini encounters that tell a story better than most soap operas. Usually not the scenes with satin sheets and rose petals. The tragedies I’ve incurred in the past few years would make you weep while you hurl sage at me in hopes my bad aura doesn’t seep into your pores. My apartment rarely heats above 50 degrees, my eye has been twitching for 3 months now, and I once woke up in a closet because I accidentally overdosed on the Ambien I have to take every night to deal with my horrible rotten no good very bad terrible twenties.

Whew. I feel a little better now. Focus. There is a purpose to all of this self-indulgent despair. I am not a complete narcissist, and have come to believe that I am probably not the only one suffering aimlessly through her twenties. That girl over there with the perfectly puffed ponytail and Seven jeans? She’s in her twenties too! And she probably has something bad going on. And she just might get a kick or a snicker out of reading about my issues and opinions. Or she might conclude I’m insane, but that would be entertaining, therefore still beneficial to all.


That Jerk said...

I'm curious about more things that man whore’s do? More details, what works what doesn't?

BluTipton said...

When I was your age I had just broken up with my girlfriend of three years, and moved back into my mom's house where I repaneled the basement to make it my own.

Hot strippers can make good money btw (text message shout out). My job back then was from 3am - 12 noon and I would equate my salary to that of a bellhop.

Didn't have a cell phone yet, but had my own hard-line in my mums basement where random asain people would call and not speak english to me. Apparently the number belonged to a Xao Xang who recently relocated.

I got many-a-bruise hitting my head on all the pipes and low ceilings, and let me tell you... there's nothing like bringing a girl home when your mom's in the livingroom chair watching Wheel-Of-Fortune with your sister and brother in-law. I was forced to start dating the asain woman who kept calling me... She was surprisingly gentle and couldn't speak one word of english. I'm kind of missing her right now.

I will say this... For those of us
who had rough twenties there's always our late twenties, thirties and fortys to try and make it better or worse. Half the people we know, the good and the bad, who seem to have the significant other
and good job will experience divorce, heartache, loss of good job, or other problem.

Hopefully, after some time has passed we can feel a fresh start, the warm sensaton of sun on our face as we open the basement door and step out into the street again. And, who knows, maybe you'll see that little asain lady again and be able to smile at some of your messed up past. After all, it's our experiences that help make us who we are.

If not, feel free to text me a BIG F U... Oh yeah, no cell phone. please call Toa Xang @651.***.$$##