eight going on thirty

When I was in the second grade the majority of the girls in my class were getting their ears pierced or already had them pierced. I wanted so badly to be able to wear the same sparkly studs as the rest of them, but in my family we weren't allowed to get out ears pierced until we were sixteen. By the time I reached fourth grade I had started making "earrings" out of copper wire that I had taken out of hard drives my dad brought home from work. I would take them apart (and attempt to put them back together...) and keep the copper wire. I had a LOT of copper wire. And I would put beads on it, braid it, etc and wear it as earrings. At first glance you wouldn't notice that they were fake and when I lost one it was easy to replace.

Around the same time they started selling magnetic earrings at Claire's. I had several pairs, but they hurt my ears and the magnets eventually lost their pull and would fall off. These replaced the copper wire, and by the time I was done losing those I was no longer interested in piercing my ears.

By the time I was sixteen I was afraid of needles and the idea of sticking one ALL THE WAY THROUGH MY EAR LOBE did not sound at all appealing. Though, I still spent too much time ogling over earrings at various stores. They're pretty, but so not worth the trouble.

Lately I kind of feel like my life is this attitude repeating itself. I can finally do things, and they don't matter anymore. I suppose everyone goes through this at some point, but I can't help but think that I'm experiencing it early, just like every other part of my life.

I mean it's a Friday night, I don't have to be at work until one tomorrow afternoon and I'm staying in watching Sydney Poitier movies on TCM. I should be out, I should be getting drunk and going home with people I'm going to complain about in the morning. But I have a keyboard to play, and books to read and shitty poetry to write, and tomorrow I will make a delicious breakfast for friends. Actually, my life sounds pretty good.