Monday, February 18, 2013

Suburban Girl Forever

Image Source: Sex & The City

Image Source: Lizzie McGuire

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Image Source: Twiggy

Image Source: Laurel Canyon by Kayla Varley on Flickr.

Image Source: Clueless (1995)

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Yesterday I wrote a list of everything I had to do this week on a post-it note and felt a little overwhelmed by everything that needs to be done. I wanted to curl into a bawl and just lie in bed all day and then the thought struck me that I've become unsettlingly boring and may end up getting groceries delivered online or something crazy. But most of all what really scared me was that I do enjoy being a boring person that only likes to push boundaries when studying or writing an essay. I mean, who does that? Apparently it's me though. I knew the party scene was always wrong for me and instead allocated work shifts on these peak moments when other people my age are going to nigh clubs, but I felt content and happy with that. There's nothing wrong with this mindset, but it seems like I've spent so much mental preparation on the time when I would do something exciting that all of a sudden I feel inundated with activities and have no idea where to start.

I organised a half-baked Rookie meet-up for Melbourne this week and haven't properly prepared any activities- I will most likely just bring my copy of Rookie Yearbook One and discuss things while performing coffee runs with fellow bloggers and there's shifts to struggle through this week as well. My boyfriend seems to have leaped at the opportunity to buy things online through me and will pay me back, but I also said I would treat him to pancakes for lunch after his exam on Friday. So really when I happily watch my bank account swell it's more like taking two steps forward and then one step back. Clearly something I did not have in mind. Is this all my life has been reduced to though? I was honestly more exciting in high school when celebrating milestones such as the sixteenth and eighteenth birthdays were all the rage.

Most of all I feel disappointed in myself and my inability to get up and do nice things for myself, even if it is just sitting in front of a nice cafe and leisurely eating breakfast- rather plodding all of twenty paces from my bedroom to the kitchen to make instant coffee. I half-heartedly blame the movies and television series for portraying people my age as exciting and imaginative people who blunder through cringe-worthy experiences with amazing stories to wow people at parties. And I have many empty and lonely blog posts to show for my sorry experiences.

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