Ok, so there's been new developments at work, namely, me making a move on the 18 year old kitchen apprentice and now me and the boy have some sort of 'thing' going on, as my one follower knows (Hey Fran).
I'm just about to hit my 24th birthday and a state of paranoia has taken grasp of me.
I'm now asking questions like 'Am I cool anymore?', 'Can I get away with wearing Kanye West glasses?', 'Fuck, are they stretch marks!?'.
I realise logically that I'm still in my twenties and can be classed as a 'young woman' but since uni ended the party seems to have truly ended and frankly, I'm sad.
When I was at uni I could have called up any one of the numbers in my phone, said I'm going out and the reply would've been, 'give me 15 minutes'. Now I have to book 3 months in advance before a night out can occur. And instead of it ending up an accidental house party, it now ends up being a quiet pint in firebug. Or worse. A night out at Molly 'o' Grady's with a bunch of jeering quasimodos, but on the upside, I was the youngest one there, except for the 16-17 year old copping off with a thirty something in the corner.
Not only that but even my metabolism has decided to flip on me. In uni, I used to be able to do every drug under the sun on an empty stomach within one hour and party til the morning at which time I would then go and visit my mum and feel only slightly rough for a few hours, now I take one toke of spliff alone and I can't think or open my eyes for days on end and smack my head off doors because I can't remember how this opening and shutting shit works again.
At the age of 24 it's already getting harder to take care of my appearance, the bags under my eyes are more prominent and I have the most random line on both of my cheeks as well as smile lines round my mouth. I can literally imagine the crows feet that will eventually form around my eyes! But then maybe I'm just paranoid. The fact is that I still get ID'd for fags and booze so it can't be that bad.
As for the young kitchen apprentice, after developing a crush on him shortly after christmas and telling myself for weeks that I wouldn't go there because he's too young and the like, I eventually hit a 'fuck it' point one night and kissed him. But lets face it, I could've said I wouldn't sleep with him til I was blue in the face, but anyone that knows me should know that the moment my head has tilted to gaze at someones arse like it's gourmet meal, then yeah, it's soo happening.
The reaction to my little triste with this young buck has generally been one of shocked laughter or tutting as if I'm some predatory sex pest that has raped him of his virginity and corrupted his young influencial mind. If I were a man and he were a girl, I'd be recieving pats on the back, shakes of the hand and general positive jeers. It's understandable when a man dates a younger girl, but people seem to find something threatening or sad in an woman dating a younger man. As if I should 'know better', know better than what?! What exactly is the crime here? If I'm still a young woman what is the problem?
Truth being that, yes by this age my mum was married and pregnant with her second child, but in this generation in this modern age, should I really be looking to settle down in my life? I'm not even sure if I want marriage or children. In fact, I feel quite negative about those ideas.
The frenchman where I worked asked me if I wanted children, and when I said I didn't, he called me sad! Is this honestly the only path in life? For christs' sake, don't digress from the social standing order. The way of things is to court a man older than you, get him to marry you, nag him about going to the pub and sporn his sprog. He goes work, you stay at home and nurture the children. That is the way of things and god fucking save your soul if you do anything otherwise.
I'm not against people picking that path, it's a beautiful thing to do and children are the purest thing in this world, marriage (when it lasts) is so lovely an idea.
But this is never who I'VE been. I always imagined myself as one of those old spinster women who still wears make-up, dyes their hair the colour it was in her youth, wears feather boas and calls everybody darling. Living in a rickety house with secret doors. Kind of like that old woman in the Ethan Hawke version of Great Expectations. The kind of old lady where young kids stand outside her house on their bikes and tell stories of how the the old ladies' left eye pops out and apparently she's crazy and her house is haunted. The kind of old lady which answers the door to the teenage postman in a slipdress.
This is a woman I envisage being at 70 years old but fuck, I don't want to be her now.
And I'm not her now.
Granted, everytime this boy says the word 'sick' as an exclamation of something good, I try to imagine myself using the word this way and cringe a little bit. Me exclaiming 'sick' is a bit like my middle-aged mum saying 'safe bruv', I think. It's just wrong.
Admittedly, for the first couple of weeks of seeing this lad I was feeling a bit like an old piece of flannel being used as a jizz-wiping cloth. I was extremely embarrassed in myself for my infatuation for him as well. The last time I was infatuated I was his age and I suppose I'd like to think that I've evolved from playground crushes by now.
Another truth is that he's one of the most good-looking people I've ever slept with, and this for me, was ridiculously intimidating. Does it help as well that he's a drummer in a band? I shouldn't think so. I've always said in girly conversations that there are two types of men you should avoid dating, coppers and musicians. The general idea being that a copper boyfriend will be too busy asserting his masculinity chasing bad guys to take you out and musicians are too busy finding themselves and expressing their inner soul through their art so that they may be proper understood to possibly find the time to see the beauty in their women.
Now, as you can tell, I've given real thorough thought to my little romance with this guy and the more I think the more indignant I feel that I'm being made to feel cheated out of my youth by the general reactions. I have considered that I'm most likely being a little too sensitive and that this is all in my head.
Maybe my impending birthday is making me assess my priorities again. Maybe I just need to take a chill pill and spend more time figuring out how to get this lad to do sexy dances for me, and cooking in my kitchen in only an apron. Though since I live with my landlady that could be a little awkward.
I should be pleased that there's a person on this earth still capable of making me blush. I should feel elated that I can still be coerced into doing the nasty in public places.
I left my shame behind a long time ago, and now this little drummer boy is on the scene, it is no time to start behaving like I'm a lady. I'm having fun, I still enjoy a good playful scrap as much as I did when I was 17 and I don't think there's anything wrong with sleeping with one of the guys in the band, and of course I have some knowledge and experience to bring to the table. Maybe other 24 year olds are livin' it up on their mortgages and long-term relationships, but I never really had a childhood, and I have so much fun to make up for. I'll never get my uni days back, they're gone and it's never going to be the same. Yes, I'm unhappy in my job; yes, I'm not the most confident girl in the room; yes, my past long-term relationships have failed miserably and yes, my nights out arn't going to be the epitomy of debauchery like they used to be.
The person that's standing in my way right now is me. I can get a better job, I can build my confidence, I can make the night mine and I can touch up beautiful people if I want to. I don't have a ball and chain to answer to and I am financially stable enough to treat myself to a meal with a good mate every now and then. I don't have any responsibilities tying me down and I am free to fuck off where ever I want to at any time I want to. I have a passionate and flighty life, and no one has the right to judge that but me.
'Cos it's well sick, man!
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