Desperately Seeking Nothing.

I am the only one holding on to my teens, scraping at the last remaining years untill my acrylic nails tear off revealing, not so glamourous bloody stubs?  I genuinely dread the day when "teen" is not on the end of my age, and I really don't have long left, before it disappears forever and ever.  But not for what many of you might think, I'm not scared of age, or getting old and wrinkly. I'm scared of turning into a desperate, self entitled dick.  The image of my 20s brings to mind five years of ravenous partying, because finally your mum really doesn't care (even though you pretend she doesn't in your late teens). Caring way too much about who and what your boyfriend is / looks like e.g. rockstar, long hair, really fucking cool by all blog accounts, instead of what kind of person he is, and broadening your Horizons by going to regional universities and "making freinds with like, common people", and "people of colour" only if there "like really cool mixed race models though" who make you look cultured and 'hip' at carnival. Subsequently followed by the next five years of your life proving to yourself you didn't peek at sixteen by not eating, getting highlights, a 'serious' job involving you starting your own stupid meaningless accessory/home wear/clothes line and manically looking for a husband as though twenty five marks the beginning of your ovaries slow and embarrassing decline into shrivelling dried up sacks. Resulting in quarter life crises.

The 30s then bring to mind Sex and the City. A programme I never looked up to, and instead saw a ginger with massive hips who is obviously a lesbian, a winey brunette with short legs, a curly haired jew, who looks suspiciously like a disney film witch and that really cool one who has a lot of sex, but... still, poor her. All of which are DESPERATELY yearning for something, and in most cases this is men, careers, and losing half their body weight. For womens whole lives there seems to be common themes which in your teens your told to ignore / not do. As followed:

Don't get too serious with a guy "your so young"

you don't need to decide about your future job yet "you have so much time"

oh yeah and my favourite: 

You don't need to diet "it's just baby fat, you'll grow out of it. Stop being corrupted by media images and Kate Moss" 

For the 6 years of your teens, your lied to, sheltered, and protected by all those around you. Your in this fabulous world of cotton wool where your can drink, smoke, have sex basically do what you want, with no responsibility or consequence. Then you wake up your in your twenties, approaching your last year of what for some people is University and everyone wants to know, what your doing? Your plans for the future? Where your going? Who are you with? ect. You ask your self why can't I answer? Well because you basically haven't grown up sense sixteen. Your life has not really changed sense you were sixteen and BAM its real world time. It's cruel. Cruel. 

I just wanna go from 19 and fast forward to 40 and be cool, and grounded again. Not. Mental. 

I talk to some of my freinds who are "excited" to be older, and I look at them with pitty knowing they just don't know what they are in for. I revel in being young enough to still be called precocious, which turns into obnoxious, which then turns into just being a bitch. There's nothing cute about a complaining 30-something trying to be controversial, and making slightly racist jokes at dinner. It becomes just racist, and no longer acceptable. As a teen your giving a free pass to basically embarrass yourself and say stupid things without being judged. This fact most teens are unaware of, and think people laugh at them because they are funny or clever. This is not the truth. Older people enjoy the air of arrogant naivety that most teenagers have, resulting in a a lot of smirking, laughing and banter. I rely on this as a means of social survival, its my go to tactic whilst among older people. The Siobhan you meet in a room full of people in the later 20s or plus, and Siobhan you meet with her own peer group are two very different people. One of them believes very strongly about a lot of things, has a load voice and is generally just a bit offensive. The other is 'normal', does not say much and is frightfully aware of everything she is doing, constantly having an internal monologue with ones self sounding half way between Clueless and The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath.  I fear that when I have passed over that formidable age milestone I'll be lost in limbo searching for the 'Siobhan' that is actually me? Ooooh big questions. This is all getting a bit Emo. I'm going to stop writing now.