About Me

My photo
Lancaster, PA, United States
I am a 26 year old female, with only hopes of becoming a rock star/movie star. Which basically means if I can't find anything else that I'm passionate about, then I'm going to be living with Mom and Pops the rest of my life(if they would even have me.) Grow up Peter Pan! is a blog about, well, growing up! And the day to day events that are thrusting me towards adulthood.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

the inability to change or achieve something

The countdown begins. 5 days until I start my first day of my last year of school.  I thought I'd never get here, and now that I'm so close, it feels like time just flew by.  I remember sitting in Mrs. Harris's 6th grade classroom wondering what college will be like.  It seemed so mysterious to me then, so confusing.  How do you know which one you will go to?  What kind of classes do you take? What's a major?  I told myself to think back to that moment when I had it figured out. I went to West Chester University.  I took a bunch of bullshit classes, and a major is in one way or another a career path; and although I may know what a major is, I still don't know what I'm doing with it.  So, one important question remains;  What are you going to do when your done with school? It's the age old question that has it's way of working itself into every conversation, and I have no response.  My Aunt Diana told me that I should think of my interests when trying to come up with a career choice.  First thing that came to mind; beer. Ok, so I could drink beer 5 days a week for 8 hours?  Sounds like my livers not going to like me very much.  Maybe sell beer?  Boring, and requires no education.  Make beer?  Hell no. On to the next one. I enjoy writing, and kids, maybe I could write a childrens book? Eh, I'd rather do that as a side job, or a hobby even.  I love music, I could critque that.  Maybe manage a band?  Work for a record company?  Bleh! My mind is seriously about to explode.  It's too frustrating to even think of the possibilities.  The list seems infinite. The only things I know for sure are I do not want to stay here, and I'm still not ready for the real world.  I'm done with this post, I'm going to go scream in a pillow.

                "Back to school, back to school, to prove to Dad that I'm not a fool."-Billy Madison

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

judgement day

Have you ever walked in a room and felt like everyone was talking about you just before you got there?  That's how I feel every time I walk into a Catholic Church.  I get a sense that the entire congregation has a 'holier than thou' attitude towards me.  Their eyes pierce through me as if to strip me down and reveal my sins.  Some people may say I have these negative feelings towards the church because I have my own guilt about not being an avid pursuer of God, some may say I should feel guilty walking into a Catholic church unbaptised and unconfirmed, and some may say screw the church.  Whatever the opinion, it doesn't help the stress that overcomes me while sitting in a pew.

The reason I put myself through this every so often is because my boyfriend, or my boyfriends family rather, are devout Catholics.  When I go to visit him on a Sunday, it's mandatory that we go to church.  Well, my boyfriend says it's not mandatory, but I'd look like a piece of shit if I was sitting at his house alone watching Sunday morning cartoons in my PJ's while the rest of the family was out praying.  So, to make him and his family happy, which I have no problem doing, I drag myself out of bed to be gawked at.

This past Sunday in particular was hellish, pun intended.  My boyfriend and I went to the 11:15 service(his parents went to the earlier one.)  I followed him through the stained glass doors like a lost puppy.  He dipped his fingers in the holy water and crossed himself as we entered the church .  I stood there and watched.  We walked to the nearest pew where he knelt down and crossed himself again.  I stood there and watched, again.  At this point I'm usually getting murderous stares.

The service began, and for the first time since I've gone to his church the priest came through each aisle and doused the congregation in holy water with some kind of silver spoon, I later found out this was because it was the day Christ was baptised.  Of course I was at the end of the pew, where the water was clearly hitting the hardest.  When he got to where I was I think he could see the fear in my eyes.  He re-dipped the "spoon" wound up his arm and threw the water at me like he was friggin' Cliff Lee.  The shower hit me like a ton of bricks and two thoughts instantly popped into my mind, one being the Incubus concert I'd gone to a few years ago where they hosed us down because of the extreme heat, and two that I was going to melt.  The unfortunate thing is, this wasn't the worst of it.  I had to sit through endless hymms sung by possible 'American Idol' rejects, a sermon about birth control, and communion, which doesn't seem so bad until you see the rest of the church standing in line to get the body and blood of christ while I'm still sitting down.

I don't want anyone to get the impression that I despise the Catholic Church and it's teachings.  I just feel that nobody has the right to judge me but God himself.  So, instead of ostrasizing me from the religion they should be willing to show me why I want to be a part of it.

Fun Fact: my name means "judged by God"

Sunday, January 2, 2011

'cause tomorrows just another day, and I don't believe in time

I'd like to start by apologizing, mostly to myself, for not posting these last few days. 

It's the holidays, sue me.

No complaints for 2010.  I read through my Facebook "news feed" on NYE wondering why every f-ing persons status read something like "2010 sucked, bring on 2011!" or, "Can't wait for this year to be over."  If anything I want to turn back time.  What's so great about another year gone by?  Why should we celebrate gray hair, wrinkles, loss of sight/hearing/bladder control, and reality television taking over the world?   It's just another year closer to death.  Morbid, I know, but maybe I'm onto something here.  We should start boycotting the holiday and go back another year instead.  I suppose that's a bit unreasonable, but seriously, what's the rush?  Aren't there like a million cliche's out there telling us "life's too short."

I may be going in another direction by saying this, but isn't it such a bitch that when we are kids all we want to do is be a "grown-up" and when we are adults all we want to do is live like a kid again? (I want to emphasize the words 'live like a kid' because I now know what alcohol tastes like and what sex feels like and I couldn't give that up.)

I can't be alone in my opinions here. Don't get me wrong, yes, I want a family, and a house, and all the other wonderful things that come with adulthood, but I don't need it right now.  I'm content with slowing things down for a while. Why speed up the inevitable?  I'll get there some day.

I think these thoughts stemmed from a conversation with my mom I had just before the new year. 

She said, "Weird, it's going to be 1/1/11, we will never see that again, hm, 2/2/22, oh my god, Dani, you will be in your 30's."

Instant depression.

Anyway, happy new year.

                   "You can't change the past, but you can ruin the present by worrying about the future."