the long dark snacktime of the soul

growing up is like being a recovering alcoholic, i think. it seems to me that just like a dry drunk, a person's never over their inner 'tween, you never get the cred you feel you deserve, someone else is always having more fun, and even if you're the most popular kid in school, some authority puppet's still kicking your ass over something.

the reason i mention this is that i realized that just as i'm getting over the fact that i'm kind of a slut, and plenty happy about that, thanks, a whole bunch of other issues are cropping up all uninvited... forget all that hooey about being talented and special. it would be nice to be the prettiest girl in school, and not a curvy, pleasant-faced midsize sedan. it would be nice to have my own company or have invented the post-it note, or just something. it seems unfair that after getting over the boring but pervasive neuroses of a private-school upbringing and immigrant family, i'm still just ordinary after all. don't get me wrong- i'm not complaining about my numerous blessings of health and vigor and brains and so forth, not to mention a high-quality education and my own brand of smiley stubbornness. (i'm a great cook, too.) what i mean is that in the end everyone turned out the same. the great, the good, the stinky, the mean and the golden are all working nine to seven and trying to furnish our apartments, eat a decent meal and get some exercise before we turn into tastycakes, or else we're living at home with our folks and slicing cold cuts at King's. no one tipped the scales and erred on the side of fantastic. (at least not yet.)

so it turns out that the prize for forgetting all their bullshit is that ten years after high school graduation, i finally start to internalize that we really are all the same? well, shit.