Okay so I've just come back to this post and deleted everything I wrote earlier in favor of something else. Prior to this sentence, I was going on about "the real world" and "be happy with small things", etc. etc.
JESUS CHRIST CHILD, WHAT HAS BECOME OF OLD BITTER HEATHER?
I remember her fondly. Actually I remember her sweetly naive, obsessed with the color pink self (circa 1998) before she had that quarter-life crisis in the 8th grade. Back then, all you had to do was throw me a book about a pretty young girl with "problems", a sparkly pink feather pen and a journal to write all about my issues in. And I was totally content. I loved bookstores, thought school was good and was the ultimate good girl.
Then I turned 13.
No, I didn't have an Evan Rachel Wood esque (that Thirteen) meltdown where I sniffed glue and hung out stealing wallets on Melrose with Nikki Reed. My change was more personally driven. I couldn't stand anyone sans my 7th grade teacher Mrs. Williams who went above and beyond the role of mentor in my life. I didn't have a religion or political affliation. I couldn't stand pink and wore only black with some occasional red. My music was very loud (that part hasn't changed).
I was an Angry Young Girl who argued for the sake of disagreement. I still remember sitting in my 8th grade religion class with our Pastor Asbury (Assbury as I referred to him in my head...definitely not the first time that nickname was probably coined) talking about the evils of reincarnation. Even though I myself had no strong views on the subject, I thought to myself, "I wonder how I can start an argument with him and make a big scene."
Yeah, those thoughts were the norm for me until I was 16.
After that, I slowly started to mature a little. If you worked with me, you probably couldn't tell. If you were friends with me, maybe you could tell. If you lived under the same roof as me, it might have been seen as a really slow change. The only thing that really turned around and saw the most improvement was my closet. (Oh joy!)
The majority of my maturing came with moving to California when I was 20. Maybe it's all the sun and the smiling people I meet but they have had their effect on me. I smile a lot more now than I did in the past. My outlook on life is much more optimistic than a few years ago where I was so burned out on school and planning for the future that I just didn't care about much except to leave everything behind and start over. Part of me thought I could literally turn myself on a dime, become a Totally New Heather! but after thirty minutes in the gym for New Student Orientation Weekend with the motivational speaker, I was almost back to my eye rolling, book reading, general other people ignoring, Heather of yore.
Almost.
I have my moments where I still get pissed for no particular reason. It can be over the most ridiculous things like something someone says in class (like how vague that is?). More than ever, I've learned to not provoke shit for the sake of fighting. Because it doesn't end well...and I would know.
I guess my main point is that no matter how old I get, I want to retain a tiny bit of immaturity. If only for the sake of the characters I write about. And for me because when I'm mad, I like it. The feeling makes me feel alive. I no longer compare my life to a conveyor belt with set times to get on and off!
I get that feeling alot lately. Apparently it's all a part of the "grown up world."
Love to you all,
Heather
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