I was seriously considering ranting about the jackass I came across on Maplestory that really pissed me off, but I don't have the energy to maintain that level of rage long enough to write about it.
So after staying up too late last night, I'm just all sleepy and -_- today. Can't really focus on much - too sleepy.
It occurs to me that I must be the strangest adult ever. Me and my bundle of contradictions. Religious but not a spaz about it. Religious but with my, uh, issues. Religious but not unafraid to unleash curses once in a while. (Dave would say, more than once in a while. Mainly because I feel comfortable enough around him and not like I'm going to traumatize him if I suddenly yell out "HOLY SHIT!" while watching the preview of next week's Dexter. Also, around other people I have this image I feel I have to uphold, and swearing isn't part of that image. I really need to curb my cursing. It's not cute, and it's occasionally funny, but it loses its effect and shock value after a while. Wow, long parenthetical statement.) An adult female gamer. Who listens to things like Linkin Park and lostprophets. Almost thirty years old, and...
...I don't feel like any more of an adult than I did when I turned eighteen, hit that magical barrier.
I figure that someday I'm going to have to give up the games, the rock, the occasional anime, and turn into a boring adult woman. I mean, I used to think it was cool that my mom was a semi-gamer, but that was a long time ago and it annoys me now. Although, to be completely intellectually honest, this could just be because this is my mother we're talking about and her every word, thought, and action annoy me now.
But this thought depresses me a bit. The boring adult woman, not Mom. Though Mom depresses me too. But that's not what I'm talking about. Right now.
One of the many reasons I don't get along all that well with adult females my age is that everything they care about is freaking boring or has nothing to do with me - I have nothing in common with them. And yeah, I like sharing funny stories about me and Dave, but I don't allow that to be a topic of conversation for more than a couple of minutes, unless the other party asks questions, because -
Because I know that when I'm talking to a woman and she goes on and on and on and on about her husband/boyfriend I get to critical mass very quickly (unless I know the guy) and then I'm like SHUT UP, FOR THE LOVE OF HUMANITY SHUT THE HELL UP.
Reason #2 - They talk about their kids ad infinitum. Oh you should have seen what little Johnny did the other day blah blah. Okay, that's kind of vaguely cute, I guess I'd've had to have been there. Now shut up because... Bluntly, because I don't care. Because -
BECAUSE I SHOULD HAVE A FOUR YEAR OLD, AND TRUE, YOU MIGHT NOT KNOW THIS - BUT IF YOU DO THEN THIS IS FURTHER DOUCHEBAGGERY ON YOUR PART.
And so I have to ask, is this what being an adult normal woman is about? Tormenting people with incessant stories about your kids and husband? Trading recipes and housecleaning tips? All of this sounds so... dreadful to me. So uninteresting. So unlike anything I have any interest in ever doing ever.
Because while these women are going on and on about little Johnny, I'm looking over at Dave talking to a couple of guys and knowing that their conversation is way, way more interesting than this - politics, religion, current events, sports. (Not that I'm all that into sports, but let's be real here, sports is way more interesting than hearing Martha tell me about this one time that little Johnny...)
As if because I have breasts, I'm automatically tuned in to the chick channel - kidsrecipesfoodcookinghusbandscleaning. But this is not really the case. I'm feminine in a lot of ways, but in more ways I'm a guy trapped in a woman's body.
I know this isn't what I originally started off talking about...
Ah yes. I suppose that eventually I'll have to join the legions of Stepford Wives. Kidsrecipesfoodcookinghusbandscleaning. Forgo my dreams of the Presidency. Stop caring about politics. Squeeze out a kid or two. Become a normal woman. But the idea of this fate kind of makes me sick to my stomach, like pretending to be something I'm not and probably can never really be is a physical poison that my body's trying to reject. Because yeah, there are parts of my life I don't like - mostly what goes on in my head - but overall... I like being me. I like the gaming, the politics, the... everything that makes me me and doesn't make me "normal".
But I don't see how continuing to be who and how I am can ever be conducive to being taken seriously as an adult, a wife, a stepmom.
Dave likes me for who I am. He tolerates the gaming. He likes the interest in discussing politics and religion. He's amused by my talking about my Presidency. (No one takes me seriously yet about this.) And this should be all that matters to me, that he likes me. I know I shouldn't be so concerned with what others think of me. But occasionally I take a step back, look at myself objectively, and wonder.
A 29 year old woman, married for almost six years, still playing video games, still talking about Star Wars and Sailor Moon, no job, no kids... is this person for real?
I'm torn between feeling almost obligated to grow up, and being me.
Is this some product of my childhood - like it seems that everything else is? Not that I can trust my sleepy brain to come up with an accurate answer right now, but I kind of don't think so. Unless I can blame it on my father for bring home the Star Wars movies when I was three and letting me watch them. But I don't think I can. I don't think that this is some detrimental effect of my childhood, for once. (O frabjous day!) I think that people's personalities are there from the moment they're born. I think I've always been this way.
I think maybe I just need to accept that
I don't know that I can. It's too weird to me. Too weird to me to think that other people look at me - in the role of wife, stepmom, adult - and see what I see, but see it differently, not as forgivingly as I'm obviously more inclined to.
I think maybe I just need to stop deciding what other people think of me. Dave likes me. Hayden and Lindsay like me. Cathy likes me. Jess likes me. Those are the important people. None of them - I think - look down on me for being me, fitting into an odd role (which is kind of okay since I'm an odd person).
And other people? Like I said, I really shouldn't care what they think, I know this... and yet. And yet I can't seem to just... not.
All this and I've come to no conclusions. Typical.