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The Perks of Being A Slacker

I am so freaking pumped!!!

Tonight I am going to see a scary movie with my friends (Sinister, if you must know) and I have been looking forward to it all week. You know when you feel like your life is in shambles? Yeah, there’s where I stand, and I choose to cling to little things like this while I’m standing there on top of my shambles.

It’s not that I feel completely shit-tastic or lost, but I just don’t want to think about homework and college and play practice (’cause I’m in the school play!) and which jeans I wore to school. I don’t want to waste more time contemplating calculus or listening to my sociology teacher drone on about sports. Do you hear me?! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!

Even though my “anymore” just equals two days. But still, all I hear about is some of my friends talking about their ba-gillion tests and how they spend hours upon hours on homework and projects each night. You know what I do? Listen to trashy music while I’m on laptop catching up on what’s going on in some other world that doesn’t involve living in a town called “fetus” and passing out around nine-thirty.

“You’re such a slacker!”

You’re such a fucking mom! Go organize your schedule for the next three years while I do this thing called “being a teenager”.

Look, I love the people in my life. They put 95% of the smiles I have on my face, well, on my face. But sometimes I can’t help but compare my life to theirs and feel shabby. Now, other friends of mine make me feel alive and rebellious and help me cook up all sorts of trouble. But finding balance between the two is tripping me up. How can such differences in one group exist without it all separating? And I know my friends love me for who I am, but I can see the look of, “Oh, you didn’t do that.” in their eyes when I shrug at the stuff they spend hours on.

I know this is all partially my fault, for being all insecure and dumb, but wouldn’t you feel the same way? Like your whole week is riding on one night so you can feel fulfilled again? Imagine being a teenager and struggling to find yourself, your future, your priorities, your feelings, and common sense 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

So tonight, tonight well…I’m gonna jump up and down, scream at a movie screen, clutch onto a cute guy that I like, and laugh so hard my stomach hurts because I am young and wild and I don’t want to be anything else right now.

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The Test You Will Always Fail

In some ways, living with your parents is life’s great test.

Okay, no it’s not, but it sure feels that way when you’re listening to them scream about who should cut the lawn at nine o’clock in the morning.

Let’s think about this here. In childhood, you need these people; they are your entire support system. Then when you are a teenager, can drive, have a job (as crappy as it may be, but a job), can vote, fight for your country, and start planning out your future based on what you want, you don’t really feel like you need them, they’re just these crazy people you live with that pay your bills and sometimes give out free food. But alas, you still need a support system, one for dealing with them. It sort of seems like a punishment for being born.

These people are the ones you get your name from, your physical traits, your migraines, and your personality. They are the ones who created the environment that either makes you a neat freak, a slob, a whatever. They are the ones responsible your memories of painful family reunions, scarring trips to Disney World, and getting your photo taken with that creepy guy dressed up like Santa in the mall (and seriously, where do they find those guys?!). Basically, THEY ARE RESPONSIBLE. So sometimes that can soften the blow of having a sixth toe.

And yet….these crimes they are guilty of do not always make it okay in our minds to have to listen to, “Okay, so your father and I’s anniversary is tomorrow, so we’d appreciate it if you and your sisters could make plans for the night. Unless you’d like to hear the creation of your next sister.”

I don’t know about you, but that is not okay, my friends, that is not okay. However, there is hope! Yes, hope I say, because no one who lives with parents like these lives with them forever. There is always the comfort of knowing that one day you will be on your own. Or dead. Whichever comes first. And so you will be away from your mom’s awful tuna casserole recipe for all eternity.

It is a strange hope. At nine thirty, when the house is finally quiet and you have decided to just stay at home all day rather than risk your mother’s wrath, it is a strange, liberating feeling to know that someday you won’t have to make that choice. Someday you will not have to witness your dad walking around in his bathrobe, someday you can walk into your bathroom without a sense of dread. Even though you may be stuck with these crazy people for now, you know in the back of your head you won’t be stuck forever. All of this suffering will have been paid off, and you can look forward to it taking out on your future children.

Because after all, what fun is it to not let your children discover the joy of hearing their parents tell their friends about the time they wet their pants on the first day of second grade?

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