Lizzi Von DooLittle (vondoolittle) wrote,
Lizzi Von DooLittle

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In which I ponder the frightening possibility of encroaching adulthood...and that I ought to be one!

I'm going to be 30 in June...that means I'll properly be an adult doesn't it?

I'm scared to be honest...does it also mean that I have to act like an adult and be concerned with adult things like bills and work partnerships??

I have trouble with taking important things and deadlines...even bills...feel like *homework*...and I leave them to the last minute just the same. I'd rather think about anything else...lose myself in a movie, read a book...go out and wander in the park...ANYTHING!!

I tend to ignore bills till it's too late then ring up with excuses and apologies to get myself out of it...then go shopping and buy unneccessary things like Snoopy stuff, vampire stuff, films, music, ribbons and ornaments.

Work doesn't feel like 'real work' since all I do is sit and type and chatter with my friends...I have been asked to apply for managerial but I don't feel authoritative enough...or old enough...which is daft as most managers there are only mid 20s if that!! All the other jobs I've had have been creative...building sets and props at the Theatre Royal, working for theatre companies advertising and other art-based stuff...

I don't feel like I'm's sort of crept up on me...I'm still 16-18...extremely inexperienced in relationships (count 5, only 3 of them being serious, only one of those 3 being intense enough to break my heart and leave me sobbing like a baby)...

I permanently have my head in the clouds, dreaming of rainbows and if I could find the end of them, and what birds and other animals THINK etc etc...

I still give names to all my soft toys...they have distinct personalities every one...everything has a name...even the computers have names...this one is Mr.Hansol because he has his name on the monitor...the old one was Mrs. Tulip for the very same reason...when Mrs. Tulip's monitor blew up, Hansol was sad because she couldn't look at him anymore...

I sleep with a Bagpuss and a Snoopy...the snoopies have to go on rotation every now and then so that they don't get jealous of each other...

I go into MacDonalds to buy the toys...get fixated by barbies and sindy dolls that I have plans on turning gothic...I paint and draw and immerse myself in literature and music and singing...or in acting, which is my main love...

Acting is pretty much no change from the dressing up fun I had when I was little...well, I say little...actually I haven't ever 15 my GCSE art project had me in Medieaval and American Indian costumes which I had made the moment I'm enjoying being the decadent actress with a big grey furry coat and a a french film star from the black and white era...sometimes I'll play the dominatrix pvc-clad female, but this isn't me at all... It's an act...a collection of superior expressions and suitable language... I don't want to dominate...I want to be hugged, cuddled and protected like a lost child...

My romantic notions are of intensity, total mental/intellectual connection, deep and loving John Donne's metaphysical imagery of compasses and of the love that Cathy has for Heathcliff :

"The definition of love for Cathy and not based on appearances, material considerations, sexual attraction, or even virtue, but rather a shared being. Cathy says: "I am Heathcliff ­ he's always, always in my mind ­ not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself ­ but as my own being." Apparently the sexual aspect of love is so meaningless for her that she believes marriage to Edgar will not come between her and Heathcliff: she would not consciously abandon her soul."

I worry when a relationship becomes mundanity...a hello after work and a peck on the interminably depressing... I quite identify with Emma Bovary feeling frustrated with her dull but devoted husband Charles in Flaubert's novel and subsequently becoming lost and led astray by characters such as Rodolphe in her pursuit of fairytale romance and happiness :

"Emma’s first lover, a wealthy landowner with an estate near Yonville. Rodolphe is shrewd, selfish, and manipulative. He has had scores of lovers and believes Emma to be no more sincere than any of them. He plots his seduction of Emma with strategic precision, begins an affair with her, and then abandons her when he becomes bored of her romantic fancies and emotional demands."

(Rodolphe is a womanising cad who makes false pretenses of sharing her passions and of loving her intensely in order to have her as his latest 'mistress' until he tires of her!!)

I read 'Madame Bovary' as a young girl...I'm reading it again now and am seeing frightening similarities between my outlook and Emma's feelings and higher emotions (tho I don't have the adultery part thankfully lol)! I entirely blame Flaubert, along with Bronte, for developing my understanding of love and such sensibilities in this manner...

Am I in a fairytale world with regards to love and relationships? Do I have to settle for 'Hi honey, I'm home!' and 'How was work?' ??

Catherine Earnshaw and Emma Bovary never really grew up I suppose... AND I DON'T WANT TO EITHER!!!

(but then they both died, one in childbirth, one in suicide...oh dear)

And with my delight in childish things and silly creative notions...I don't want to give that up and grow up...

What do I do? I can't carry on like this forever...can I??

I'm afraid I'm getting too old for this...but it's ME!! It's inherent in who I am...

I can't change...I grew up in a world of fantasy...Narnia, Peter Pan, Alice In Wonderland...and lots of sailing, playing in the woods and in the river, going out painting with my Aunt Diana and drawing maps...dressing up all the mother used to have to take me shopping in american indian headdresses, roman soldier costumes, egyptian collars, gypsy dresses...

I've carried this on into my life now and I don't even want to's just that I look at my workmates and people all around me and they seem

They appear in control of their world and, to be honest, somewhat mundane and uninspired...

But if I stay myself and don't conform what will become of me?

I'll just end up an eccentric old hag, left on the shelf, still dying her hair black at 50 and looking like a crone...

BUT fundamentally, I don't want to change...

I just don't understand...and I feel a bit weird going into my 30's and not feeling like I've advanced in my fairytale outlook since school...everyone else is growing old around me (even those younger than me) and I feel out of place.

Extremely out of place.


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