My blog was born from a time in my life that I like to call, “The Time I Lost Me”.
Dear Lord, that’s an epically boring name for such a significant time in my life.
“The Time I Did Things I Secretly Don’t Regret”?
“The Time I Would Sit on Venice Beach with Homeless People and Drink From My Flask”?
“The Time I Wanted to Abandon My Life and Drive Out Into the Desert and Live in a Seedy Motel and Write Poetry on the Walls in Lipstick”?
Though I rarely addressed my “feelings” in the beginning days of my blog (at that time called, “PlasticLA”), I did often joke about certain predicaments that I would find myself in. Situations that could be labeled as “sad” or “pathetic”.
Waking up lying next to a bottle of cheap vodka with mascara running down your face and turning towards the mirror wondering who the hell you were looking at did make for endless writing fodder, but it did not make for a great life.
And though I dreamt since I was a little girl of being a bi-polar, substance abusing, romanticizing artist I realized that that path was not best for me, my family & friends, or my writing. Determined to “find me a again” (<--lame), I set out on a quest to do such.
And I did.
And now I have nothing remotely interesting to talk about.
Being an adult sucks ass.
No longer feeling the urge to drink myself to sleep at 9PM on Friday night, not before calling every I know to announce that I just drank a quarter of a bottle of really expensive vodka that was not mine, that I think I puked up something purple, but I couldn’t really tell, and that I’m sorry for being a narcissist= boring.
No longer chasing after self-centered “artists” who a.) wear three piece wool suits year round in Southern California and stick their thumb in the dirt when stressed out b.) is a married producer that most people believes has the mental capability of killing someone or c.) are car-less and/or jobless and grow patchy beards and nervously twist their unwashed hair= boring
No longer being able to drive through Skid Row at night and press my hand against the driver’s side window, out towards the rows of tents and fumbling zombies, while waiting at a stop light= boring
No longer living in a steel box in down, downtown Los Angeles infested with rats, mutant mosquitoes born from the nearby recycling plant, drug addicts hiding in the alley behind my window and setting fire to abandoned vans in my parking lot, lying awake at night holding myself into a tiny ball and wondering if I was going to see the light of morning= boring.
I miss the those days of twenty-something emotional outbursts and bad decision-making!
How can I possibly have my shit together at 26?!
Hm. Maybe having a therapist when I was 23 actually did help.
Or maybe I just don’t have an imagination.
I know precisely how you feel.
I used to sit up all night on the porch of the charming hovel I lived in, smoking cigarettes and sharing despicably cheap whiskey and valuable conversations with whoever would join me.
If I'm up past 11 now it is only because I'm working on my budget or adding a bowl of ice cream to my calorie tracker. Sometimes it is to do with a reality-show-competition-marathon.
I don't feel good about this.
Boring? No. Safer? Apparently.
I guess once you grow up you have to start making your own excitement out of more "grown up" experiences. Things that don't involve putting yourself in danger, hehe
This is my favourite post I've ever read of yours. There's a lot there. Thank-you.
Funny – I got my shit together at 26 as well. Something about that age is remarkably adult.
I also think that excitement fades with age. Our synapses aren't all firing at full tilt constantly. There are advantages and disadvantages to that.
I'm 26 and I've turned boring too!
I just woke up one day and realised. I hadn't experienced anything, good or bad, worth telling about for a while. Too bad it's not because I've got my shit together.
This ain't a bad thing. As others are saying, it's safer. And every now and then I still find myself in a weird/dangerous/exciting situation.
So even if you wake up thinking "BORING". You just have to remember;
anything could happen today.
I'm convinced that growing up and becoming an "ugh-dult" sucks the imagination out of you.
It is a very scary realization to come to (that of realizing you're grown); but like your post title says (which I love) – you're a "big kid."
You might be a "together" 26-year old, but don't rush into the adult phase. We're still young and free and fun. You've still got some risky business to get into, I'm sure ^_^
I feel you. I'm starting to frequent pubs in the weekends nowadays, boring quiet pubs, just to chat over work stuffs with my buddies. No longer are we drinking cheap whisky by the lake, walking aimlessly around town at wee hours striking up conversations with homeless people, campaigning and participating in socialists activities,no longer going to any strike.
I like to think that deep down we are suppresing the restless soul and it is only a matter of time it will burst out again when the time comes. I sometimes can feel the reckless, rowdy, lost dude coming out, though not as frequent as it used to , i miss this dude. Yeah, growing up sucks ass. I don't even know what excites me now.
this post got me thinking… I'm 17 and for the past 2 years I've been wishing to be an adult, and yet most "adults" keep wishing they could be kids again.
however, don't think being an adult means you're about to turn all boring and old… you're 26. in my mind, that's the perfect age. it's not time for old yet, and you still have plenty of time to fuck up all the shit you got together.
You think you have your shit together at 26. Then you reach 36 and realise you knew bugger all about anything back then. I imagine this will also happen at 46.
Wait until the realization hits that it is all relative.
Oh damn, you got me with the "artist" part. And I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out and be friends!
As for Mr. London, I'm 22 and I know just about everything.
Maybe that's what growing up is all about….? Ah hell, I'm not one to talk about that 🙂 I, too, have no clue what I'm doing.
"bi-polar, substance abusing, romanticizing artist"
you should read my first poetry book entitled Manic Rose City. it's a classic tale of said quote and through it all i am the most successful mania suffering fool i have met . acclaimed scientist, artist & father. it was the latter that allowed me to grow up, but there is this idea i have that there can be controlled chaos, it just takes a lot of energy.
check out http://www.freschklesch.com to follow the controlled chaos
Whenever I start to feel all mature and together I date an unbalanced woman. You get all the ups and downs without all the substance abuse. If you don't let her know where you work it won't get you in too much trouble either.
Shit, I feel like we should be friends.
I loved this post. I'd seriously buy us both a few cheap 40's, grab some Reds and laugh at our boring selves.
I think I am going to quit my job and devote my life to art and love.
26 must be a pivotal age. I REALLY lost my shit at 25 (an accumulation of years of not having my shit together). 26 was when I pulled myself together and decided to get back on track, but it wasn't until 28/29/30 that I really FOUND myself.
You'll have plenty of more experiences to write about. They might not be as dangerous/reckless, but I'm sure they'll still be interesting.
(I decided yesterday that my goal in life isn't to accumulate fabulous stuff, but to accumulate fabulous experiences!)
this was a sobering post.
where does our adventure even GO?
Lauren – I really liked this post. I'm kind of going through something similar to what you went through before you decided to leave LA, I think.
I love New York, but I've just been feeling so tired recently. So tired, and mostly sick too. I'm tired of exhausting myself going out, drinking, doing stupid shit, feeling the pressure to make art all the time, etc etc. My writing has gotten better as I continue to go through this difficult time in my life, but I also find myself wondering how my writing/self would change if I moved out of New York, to somewhere completely new and different, and subtracted all those things from my life.
Some questions: How did you finally decide to leave LA? How do you feel about your life now vs. your life then (aside from claiming it is "boring," which I don't think is true)?
I'm 24. I often wonder what my life will be like at 26.
Just started to get my shit together at 32…at least you're a few years ahead of the game.