ATTENTION WRITERS: Your best friends? They ain’t gonna read your sh@t, and it’s not because you’re a bad writer, no — they’re just … not gonna. Let me rewind and try to put this in perspective before I’m disowned/unfollowed/unfriended by everyone I have ever known.
Friendships, as they age, undergo growing pains. As an adult, you’re very lucky to retain your childhood friends. In fact, most adults (I’ve noticed) collect adult friends because circumstances with childhood friends change drastically over time. When you’re a kid, oh, boy, it is total emersion; you and your best friend are one unit! You wear the charms and obsess over the same things. You go to school with them, probably, and spend tons of time with them on the weekends because you’re not busy being an adult yet. You are completely awash with all things “best friend,” and this is often reciprocated, because what else is there socially when you’re – I don’t know – 12 years old? Continue reading “Your best friends are not your biggest fans”
Becoming an adult is special kind of treat, and when I say “special,” I mean that the progression from adolescence into adulthood is like a super-dare. “Here, [name], have this lollypop! No, you don’t have a choice. It will be delicious on the outside, but when you get to the center, it will either be filled with chocolate-y goodness, or stuffed with puss and maggots.” And that’s kind of what growing into an adult is like … I think.
Look, I’m not a fan of the term, “adulting.” On the contrary, I think it’s a stupid verb that lazy, entitled teat-suckers use to joke about the difficulties of “growing up.” Oh, man, I’m already using a lot of quotes in this post to articulate my dismay. In any case, I tire of whiners who have trouble wiping their own bums and taking care of business because there is this new standard to which people subscribe that they are owed something once they – oh, I don’t know – turn 21; graduate from college; get their first job; get dumped from their parents’ health insurance; move out? Really, just insert any one of those life events into the sentence and it will apply. Look, lots of people are crawing about being adults and what being an adult means, and I hate them. Every. Single. One. Still, I can kinda relate, and as that’s the case, I got to thinking: “Man, there must be a way for me to communicate the struggles of adulthood, or life, as the case may be, without sounding like a complete priss.” *waves hands enthusiastically at computer screen* Well, welcome to my blog: The Stumble is Real: A blog for misdirected, confused and underachieving adults.
Continue reading “Welcome to The Stumble is Real”