One big confession, my first of 2011. I'm turning 27 in two months. Not the confession. The confession is that the older I get, the more my rebellions have contracted. I no longer kiss strangers or drive too fast in the middle of the night or even fully express my road rage. I don't eat cookies for breakfast. I avoid getting into political debates on Facebook and Twitter. I bite my tongue. I try to be graceful about constantly being exposed to other people's bullshit.
In the parking garage yesterday, I accidentally cut someone off. She was not happy about it. She raised her eyebrows and totally mouthed something at me. And I... I stuck my tongue out at her. Because I am all of five years old, apparently. It was... pathetic, really. But it was also probably the most responsible response I could have mustered. I'm sure my uber-Christian workplace wouldn't appreciate me giving the finger to a co-worker.
Responsible. But unsatisfying, to be sure. So I have my tiny rebellions. I paint my toenails neon purple and wear sandals to work. I sign petitions. I listen to my music too loudly. In short, I have reverted to being 16. It doesn't really sit well with me all the time. I'm a fighter by nature and sometimes, even though I know it's best not to, not fighting or speaking up or giving that lady the finger... makes me feel like a hypocrite or a failure or that I've sold out to the man.
But you know... grace or patience or some other virtue that I'm trying to possess.