I'm probably stuck in a state of prolonged adolescence or something, but I have no desire to grow up. Not yet. Not ever, really.
Ryan used to compare himself to Peter Pan, saying he would never grow up. I used to make fun of him, but now I seem to be the one romping around in the metaphorical green unitard, refusing to truly conform to any lifestyle to requires me to be anywhere before noon.
Right now, my life is perfect. I have a lame job that is basically optional and tons of time to do all the things I want to do. I've got a musical advice column that's taking the Internet by storm. I'm writing a rock musical. I'm excavating my old journals from their hiding spots with the hopes of getting some sort of high school memoirs together. I've got a show with Original Sound Trash in a couple of days and am gearing up for rock tour (an event that seems to be ever-evolving). Life is fantastic!
Except for the part about living with my parents and not actually getting paid to do any of the things I just listed...
Transition times are so awkward.
Even Peter Pan has to get old. I think that is the most depressing picture I have seen in a long time.
