I love ice cream

This is nothing new. When I first went away to college, I thought it'd be great--no bedtimes, no curfews, nobody telling me I have to wear matching socks (or getting annoyed when I don't). Like most people probably do, I did all the things I'd always wanted to do that Mommy had always prevented. These things did not include drinking, drugs, and sex, like my mom always suggested. (Of course, all teenagers want to fuck the devil and get high on Clorox as soon as they're out of their parents' houses.) So I didn't gravitate to the usual rebellion activities. I just did the things I wanted to do: Staying up all night just so I could watch Animaniacs really early in the morning, sitting on the refrigerator to eat, and wearing my hair in a couple dozen braids instead of a neat ponytail. But the point is not how hip I thought I was; it was that this phenomenon DID NOT FADE. As of this writing it has been five years since I entered college, and I am still eating ice cream for breakfast just because I CAN. Doing that licking-the-bowl jumping-on-the-bed making-a-mess-with-crayons-and-glue thing. And I'm not sure, but I think Mommy may actually be beginning to accept that this really turned out to be me and not a phase. Scary. I didn't grow out of it like everyone predicted.

Yeah, so some people keep telling me that I should stop hanging onto "the past," being all childish, get a real job and try to get married, because that's what grown-ups do. But their problem is that they arbitrarily expect me to want "adult things" just because of how long I've been breathing. Funny how they tell you all your life "if everybody was jumping off a bridge, would you do it too?" and then they expect you to do just that just because when you hit early twenties you're "supposed" to jump into a dead-end job and become part of the ridiculous machine. But they can screw themselves, because ice cream is just too damn good in the morning.