Lily’s College Lesbianage #13: I Have Some Issues With Growing Up

Last night at one in the morning I decided that it would be a really good idea to cut my own hair. It was the kind of night where you know you’re not going to fall asleep so you become consumed with a toxic mixture of high-anxiety and previously bottled-up energy. I wanted to do something drastic without it being too angsty so I thought that cutting my hair was the perfect option—enough drama without going completely overboard. I wanted to give myself bangs but then I remembered what I looked like with bangs in high school—it wasn’t great.

 

When I was 16 and decided it would be a great idea to break every dress code violation at my school so I could pretend to be Fergie. Yeah.

 

I searched for my special hair-cutting scissors (I get the urge to cut my hair late at night at least once a month) but could not find them anywhere in my embarrassingly cluttered summer-dorm room. I settled on my favorite pair of rather dull left-handed scissors (if you are left-handed and do not have left-handed scissors go out and buy them now—they will change your arts-and-crafts-life for the better). Unfortunately, I quickly learned that such scissors are not ideal for cutting hair.

But I mean, if The Real L Word has taught me anything it is that all lesbians are hairdressers—so why didn’t my hair look awesome after I took scissors to it? Perhaps I do not have enough tattoos…

 

 

Oh well.

Unfortunately, my bad fashion decisions didn’t stop last night with my hair. This morning I somehow came to the conclusion that it would be totally respectable for me to wear a shirt with poodles on them, my two-prescriptions-ago glasses, no-make-up, and what can only be described as “mom-jeans.” Despite having a grand total of 20 dollars in my bank account, I was forced to step outside in pure daylight to put my last five-dollar bill on my laundry card. In the two minutes it takes to get from my dorm to the place with the laundry card machine I ran into a woman who was either drunk, homeless, or both. She told me that I should put sunscreen on my pale face and then added, “you could be pretty if you put some make-up on.”

Sooo, that happened.

The past couple of days have just been a series of “one of those days.” The days where you get caught in a torrential downpour of rain on the way to volunteer with little kids only to show up to the job in a soaked and completely see-through white sundress. Or the days where you get lost in your head about “feelings” and “emotions” about someone you have only known for two weeks (yes, I am that kind of girl). The kind of day where you have a complete mental breakdown in the middle of a place called “Manhattan Mini-Storage” or as I like to call it, Fresh Hell.  I managed to yell/cry at everyone who was helping me move that night, including a perfectly well intentioned janitor, my ex, and my ex’s new girlfriend (ya…I know…).

But, this column is about college and not about homeless people who do not think I am naturally pretty. (Homeless people often tell me I have pretty eyes so I am just going to pretend that she could not see my eyes because of my glasses…)

The end of my Sophomore year of college came and went in a rather boring fashion. This is my take on my last month of school:

“Blah blah blah I am stressed blah blah oh look I have strep throat again blah blah finals are not fun blah blah why did I take oil painting as a class blah blah I am stressed blah blah how did I pass Spanish with an A- I must be a genius (or should I say un genio) blah blah I have too many shoes to fit in this storage space blah blah I am stressed blah blah.”

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South Florida Is Sunny and Likes Plastic Surgery

 

I went home to Florida for two weeks, got super tan during the first week and in true Lily-fashion came down with an ear infection IN BOTH EARS during the last week. How does that happen? Especially since I am not toddler and from what I know about medicine and science and stuff (read: nothing) only little kids get ear infections.

I have to go to multiple doctors every time I go home for whatever illness I have come up with that month. This time I had to go to the tonsil doctor. Here is the thing about my tonsil doctor: He doubles as a plastic surgeon because I am from Palm Beach and that is just how we roll down there. Every time I go to his office I not-so-secretly hope that he will ask to take a picture of my “perfect nose” (his words, not mine…in my imagination) to put on his wall for inspiration.  Of course, this has not yet happened. Instead I left his office with a cold/double ear infection. This was karma, I believe, for having such a damn egotistical imagination.

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My Little Brother: The Wannabe Lesbian Superstar

While at home my brother and I attempted to record another song to put in this post. Mainly because my brother loved the attention he received last time and now believes that he is a superstar in the lesbian community. He talks about it a lot. Unfortunately our attempt at “Cry Me a River” did not go very well. It turns out that Justin Timberlake can sing a lot of notes in multiple registers while I can only sing about 7 and my brother can do like 5 soooo it didn’t really work out. But my brother won’t give up on his newfound fame so I am sure we will have something relatively exciting in the near future.

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Summer In The City

And now here I am, back in New York with a job as the Nightlife Editor for a publication called Inside New York.  The fact that my title is “Nightlife Editor” is quite hilarious–no one would ever describe me as any sort of “queen of the night”. My idea of a perfect night would include Penelope Cruz and I curled up in bed while watching a marathon of 30 Rock and eating some sort of ice-cream/cookie combination. Unfortunately, Penelope Cruz is not in my job description. And because I am 100 years old (proven by the contents of my purse which includes Advil, vitamins, gum, and kleenex) being in charge of NYC Nightlife has been rather exhausting. BUT despite my senior-citizen-like lifestyle, I have been having a wonderful time at my summer job.

It is weird feeling like a “real person” who has a job that pays money and comes with real-life co-workers who have actual gatherings to happy hours at local bars. Granted, we are basically just pretending to be grown-ups as we are all college students and our office is tucked away on the Columbia campus. But still. I am not sure how I feel about this pretend-real-world-experience that I am living in right now. Obviously, I have some issues with growing up.

Inside New York Staff Pretending to Be Grown-Ups

I may not turn into a grown-up this summer but I have a feeling that the next few months are going to be full of interesting stories that I will make sure to report on as often as I possibly can. And by interesting I mean random sightings of past America’s Next Top Model contestants or how often I listen Demi Lovato while riding the subway–normal stuff like that.

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Lily has written 33 articles for us.

37 Comments

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    I have issues with growing up, too! A lot of people in their late late teens/early-mid 20s do.

    This is a great article about the “emerging adulthood” phenomenon. After I read it, I felt a lot less like a failure at life.

    http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/22/magazine/22Adulthood-t.html

    Also, the contents of my purse include Tums, Ovol, Pepto Bismol tablets, kleenex, 2 different packs of gum (Trident Splash orange swirl–my favourite, and a pack of Juicy Fruit my boss bought me…I hate Juicy Fruit actually, but I thought it best not to tell him this), hand sanitizer, Neutrogena hand cream, and 2 peppermint candies from the restaurant my friend and I went to on Sunday. I’m a lot more pathetic than you, don’t worry.

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      by the way are you guys using q-tips to clean your ears? if you are going to far into the ear canal that’s probably one major reason why you are getting an ear infection. maybe you should invest in an ear spoon (i know sounds nasty and something old people would totally carry, but hey im a lily too)

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    I’m 28 and I don’t plan on “growing up” till maybe my mid 40’s. Too much to get out of the way first. Okay, maybe late 30’s. Depends on how it all goes.

    My 28th birthday just happened and I totally flipped out. No longer was I “two years past 25″ I am now “2 years away from 30″. GAH!

    I’m still (a month later) bothered, but it’s getting a bit better. There’s always someone around to say “28?! You’re still a baby!” Oh god yes. Thank you. I need that 24/7 right now. I think my big issue is the way age can show on your face. Vanity isn’t a crucial thing in my life, but I guess being femme, I can’t deny that it bothers me to see myself change in not so young looking anymore ways.

    It’s scary too, because last year at this time, it was no issue at all. Apparently, in the part year, everyone I grew up with now looks 10 years older than they did, is married, has kids, and says shit like “wtf is Glee? god I’m glad I grew up in the 90’s.” Thanks Facebook, we might be breaking up soon.

    TBH, I know more about what 16 year olds like NOW than I did (regarding my own peers interests) when I was 16. I think a big reason for this is that Gen X was pretty dominating for us Y’ers and we didn’t have much of our own thing. Obviously different for everyone, that’s just the way it was for me.

    K- I’m gonna stop and just write a blog post about this, but thanks for the post Lily! I think we are mental doppelgangers. We share a lot of the same intricacies.

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      Let me add to that, I manage to hold down a decent job and pay all my bills and stuff. I just don’t allow myself to fall into the pitfalls of adulthood. One of my big deals is that I totally effed up college and I hope to start over and finish next time. It leaves a lot to be desired. So yeah, doing good in and finishing college = win.

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    this post makes me miss college. i am still way far in my post-graduation depression, which would probably get better if i got myself a job but that would mean that i am a “real adult” and won’t be able to convince myself that i’m basically still a college student. so, yeah. #problemsofprivilege #i’mdonewhining now #cantherebeapostrophesintags? #iclearlydon’thaveatwitter

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    I’m 25 and whenever someone starts talking about age, I go to that place in my head where i’m mentally shoving fingers into my ears to stop from having to hear it.
    I’ve had myself a “real job” since I was 22 and don’t feel any more adulty than I did in college. I hate thinking/talking about my age. Whenever someone asks, I want to shout out “I’m 19!” and run away in the opposite direction.

    Which is all to say, that I (like you), have been about 100 years old for forever now. So there’s that.

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      I miss you tooooo!

      Bah I was just thinking about pride stuff this week– wish everyone were here to do the parade again. It’s not going to be the same=( But you are invited to New York whenever your heart desires–there will always be room on my floor and/or couch if I ever get a couch. So, you should know that (and come visit!).

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      Aw don’t be terrified! Barnard is great, for reals. Whatever problems I have had at this school are problems that I would have at any school. That being said, Barnard definitely is not for everyone. But I have found that it is for me and I am very happy and thankful to be able to go here.

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    I love this/these college-related article SO HARD. I was just thinking how I feel like this summer is going to play a large part in my evolution into adulthood.
    Also, I asketh you, and the autostraddle community at large, if y’alls know anything rad and pride-related for the under 21s in NYC, since you seem to fit that demographic.

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    “Or the days where you get lost in your head about “feelings” and “emotions” about someone you have only known for two weeks (yes, I am that kind of girl).”

    I’m not alone!

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    I love this.. but would like to warn about googling ‘girls with sidecuts’ everytime you are bored for 3 weeks, then begging your girlfriend to drive you to buy some clippers to shave some hair off (she is wise, but.. maybe not so much right then..) after which you decide to put your art student status to the test and sneak upstairs with a craft knife and chop away happily.. until the gf calls an emergency friend, we buy emergency clippers (and get our emergency drinks on) and try to save the patch..
    which worked out okay, but my fair blonde hair made me look bald.. but that may have been the really close cut..

    I wish I had decided to not eat and send £6 on the cheapest (although a lot better than me with craft knives and my hair) hairdresser around, who (after another hair-tasrophy, fixed something that was shocking to say the least) can perform wonders with my late night hair cutting rebel urges..

    I think imma stick to painting my toennails radically or maybe wearing a leather jacket and a dress, seeing as sidecuts are addictive and its ridiculously hard to grow out. :/ ah the fun of late night hair cuts ;P

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