"My overall look on things is a lot more mature than it used to be."*

   It’s getting awfully hard to pitch a decent fit. It often seems that the second I walk out of a room to make a point and slam a door behind me, I suddenly have to go to the bathroom. Leaving my room to go back to where everyone else is still sitting so I can use the bathroom takes something away from the drama of stomping out.

   Sometimes you really want people to know that you’re sad or angry but you’re too passive aggressive to come out and say, “I’m sad” or “I’m angry.” You want them to guess it, and they can’t guess it if you come right back into the room. You haven’t sulked long enough to make an impression. It just looks like you went back to your room to get something and now you’re rejoining the conversation.

   It’s also not as cool to deliver the punch line to a joke brilliantly, only to turn around and run into a wall. Then everyone’s just laughing at you instead of thinking you’re incredibly witty and clever.

   Occasionally you want to tell a joke and leave the room immediately so you don’t spoil your delivery by laughing at your own joke (tacky) or by continuing to talk after the punch line. But when you run into a wall, you’ve become the punch line. They’ve completely forgotten what your joke was even about because you turned directly into the goddamn wall, you idiot. I want to be more graceful.

   Along this same line of thought, it’s awkward to get up for water when you have people staying with you and it’s morning. If you get up for water, they might think you’re ready to start your day when in actuality you’re just really, really thirsty (due to last night’s alcohol party) and would like to drink some water and then go back to sleep for another hour or so. But once they’ve seen you, you feel compelled to get up. So you decide not to get the water and you just lie in bed and everyone loses: you’re still thirsty and because of that you’re not sleeping. Your guests are in the other half of your apartment wondering when you’ll get your ass out of bed.

   And—to keep this train of thought rolling—I think I’ve probably always been the kind of person that needs to have the last word. Whenever I’ve gone through breakups, I can’t just ignore the emails and phone messages telling me what I’ve done wrong. I always have to respond so the other person knows what HE did wrong and how he’s misunderstood the situation.

   All of these issues go back to the same basic premise: I’m still not a grown-up. I thought when I turned 30 a couple months ago that I was, but it was mostly smoke and mirrors.

   I have gotten a little bit better as I’ve gotten older.  And I can often fake being an adult if I’m trying to impress someone. I can feel myself wanting to make jokes that aren’t funny and holding my tongue; reminding myself that no one will find said jokes entertaining (least of all me). I’ve learned to stop responding to the emails and texts, because when you do that you’re just feeding the flames of the big, crazy bonfire. I’m trying not to be the last person at a party. I am attempting to shut up a little more often. It’s hard. I’m learning. 

   Here are some signs of my maturity:

I've kept this aloe plant alive. I've never been able to do that in times past.

I take vitamins and fiber supplements. Very mature (in a number of ways).

I fully intend to vote tomorrow. Incredibly responsible.

   But I can’t seem to stop trying to make a dramatic point whenever I feel that I’ve been wronged. Maybe it’s the fault of that ill-considered theatre degree I received. Maybe it’s because I’m a Highly Sensitive Person (that's real...finally my life is explained!). But in some fucked up, perverted way it makes me feel good. It’s sort of like when I used to cry to manipulate my various boyfriends (or just boys that were friends). Part of me knew I was doing it but that part of me also didn’t really give a shit. I wanted what I wanted and I wasn’t too terribly concerned with how I got it. I don’t do that anymore (another sign of maturity!); but I do make theatrical exits, stomping out of rooms and slamming doors. Maybe I’ll get over that too, eventually, and just talk to people directly when they act like turd burglars. But the chances aren’t good. And I think it takes a certain level of maturity to recognize that. 

*Quote is Eminem.