In my late 20s, I’m discovering that I either have multiple personality disorder or I’m straight up evolving into Two-Face.
WHEE! FUN TIMES!
So, I’m 28.
Some of my modeling profiles IMPLY that I am younger than that. Maybe my Facebook does too. But I confess: I’m a muthafuckin’ grown-up, yo.
By Grown Up, I mean the following:
I pay my bills, I live with a partner, I have a dependent (dog). I have 4 day jobs, and a career that is going relatively well. I cook for myself, work out 3-5 times a week, get my car serviced, keep the house clean. I have a therapist, health insurance, an appointment for wisdom tooth removal. You know. GROWN UP STUFF.
I’m not looking for a cookie - I’m well aware that plenty of humans have this crap sorted out at 18. But at 28, I finally feel like I’ve got this Keep Myself (& Dog & Some Plants) Alive thing fully afloat.
I don’t know if it’s the age, my biological clock, or Facebook, but some days, I wanna take this Keep Myself Alive practice to the next level. I wanna Supersize my grown-up, I wanna WIN THE GROWN UP RACE. This is possibly fueled by everyone I ever knew EVER getting engaged and makin’ babies like it’s going out of style, and I have FOMO hard for that ish.
Some days, I am like WHERE BE MY WHITE PICKET FENCE, BITCHES? Errybody else got they ring, WHERE IS MINE? I have an ADORABLE, earthy but sprawling estate planned on Pinterest, let’s get busy shopping for solar panels!
So that adulthood thing. I’m calling that Maggie Dent. Harvey Levin. She wants a big fat Tiffany ring, and garden parties in her chi-chi Laurel Canyon house.
Then, there’s the flip side, clawing not just for a little room, but TOTAL CONTROL of my otherwise orderly body. She is fed by my penchant for looney hair colors, dancing like a moron whenever possible, POETRY and PRESENTS, pole dancing, staff spinning, costume parties, and collecting overpriced leggings. I still live with a fuckton of roommates. And as I get older, I dress more like the teenagers I idolized as a child. This version of me is basically gunning to be Jem.
My Two-Face Fairy Sparkle Pony, who wants to climb MOUNTAINS and light her whole life on fire like ALL THE TIME. People dig this girl, she is fun. I like her too. But she runs a rather chaotic ship, and she really likes to gang up on Maggie Dent and BEAT THE EVER LOVING CRAP out of her.
Why do you want to do all this BORING stuff all the time?!!! Let’s go to Morocco and write a book! Let’s become polyamorous! Let’s spend all your hard earned dollars on twee Game of Thrones t-shirts from Etsy! Maybe we should work on a FARM! If now were the zombie apocalypse, what would we be good at? We should probably probably take a class on building mud structures and tree climbing.
I like Two-Face. She’s a blast. But if I hang out with her for more than 24 hours, any business email I receive throws me into a deep depression. The Man is Trying to Get Me, she screams. And the fact that I am not having nonstop orgies in swimming pools filled with glitter is like…a CATASTROPHE.
WHERE DID WE GO WRONG!!!?? Two-Face Sparkle Pony cries. WHEN DID WE BECOME SO COMPLACENT!?!
I don’t know what it all means. I’ve decided to stay the course and try to feed both personalities as much as possible until I figure it out or utterly lose my mind or maybe both!
So basically, my sprawling Pinterest estate will have a glitter orgy pool.