Swear to God, when I was 18 and 19 years old, I thought I would be handed a playbook, or a key, or knowledge would just magically appear in my brain when I turned 20. Just like that, one day a kid who knew nothing, and then BOOM! instant adult, ALL questions answered. Also, my skin would clear up.
Imagine my profound disappointment. Maybe 20 was unrealistic, but surely 30?
I was raised to think that ‘adults’ knew everything, that ‘adults’ never questioned things because at some magical ‘adult’ age all the answers simply landed in their brains. I am not making this up. I really thought, well into my 30s that I had missed the important download of ‘adultness’ and that everyone else had this shit figured out and I was the only one who was just flying by the seat of my pants.
Things I have still not figured out:
- low maintenance hair
- clear skin
- walking in heels – gracefully
- how to file (neatly)
- spell words with all the right letters, in the right order
- money, the part where I earn it and spend it only on responsible and prudent things, save for vacations, and not say, on another low maintenance hair product
- how to paint my toenails (neatly)
- how to store art supplies (neatly)
- not worry if these pants make my ass look flat/fat/good/not good, or if this shirt/bra makes my boobs look less pathetic/perky/worth noticing, and does my hair work with this outfit, or should I scrap the whole look and start over? Never mind, starting over…
- Plastic surgery, worth it for my floundering self esteem, or shameless vanity that I should find beneath me
- how to Ohm properly, or pronounce Sanskrit words
- how to remember and pronounce 90% of people’s names
- men. I haven’t a clue. I know I’m okay looking , reasonably intelligent, and also men like the hair, but I keep ending up with a different version of the exact same guy
- how to fake enthusiasm when I give zero fucks (zero fucks blog link)
- eyebrows, pluck, wax, tattoo….
- how to ‘stand up and greet your neighbour!’ without wanting to vomit into my purse first, or crawl away secretly underneath the chairs
- get to bed at a reasonable time
- making soup, eatable soup
- fly kites
- remove contact lens
- read bad poetry – I can’t even
What I can do reasonable well:
- doodle/draw/paint for hours upon hours
- fold socks and towels in an organized and orderly fashion
- make my bed
- teach yoga
- make people laugh
- tip well
- playing cribbage in an unsportsmanlike but entertaining manner, or as we like to say, 31 ….. Bitch..
- jigsaw puzzles
- watch movies
- cook and bake, not counting soup
- eating – I’m super good at eating
- drinking coffee, but I’m really fussy…
- dressing up and passing for an elegant intelligent woman for entire evenings at a time
- being generally half decent to peole
- supported fish pose – I totally rock this pose
- staying calm when things get crazy
- getting a massage – so good at this
- rationalizing reasons to eat dessert
- sleeping in contact lens
- drive a stick shift
Ultimately, I don’t have a clue. I am making everything up as a go. I suppose this is okay, but the skin not clearing up, I’m still pissed about that.