“Children Are The Future!”

…until when?

This is an expression I noticed goes in a cycle.

I remember as a kid (age still in single digits) in summer camp, the counselors taught us a song about how “we” (the present kids) are the future.

My 27th birthday is next month. I don’t think I’m the future anymore.

Exactly how long are kids the future?

Legally speaking, childhood lasts until the age of eighteen. But life does not, and it goes without saying people are in their twenties (especially under 25) are considered adults only in the legal definition of the word. One of my former bosses told me I’m a baby after I told him I was 23. Barring premature death, 18-year-olds are still have a long future, but no one is singing about how young adults are the future.

No one idealizes teenagers either. In fact, the teen years are notoriously hated because they’re not adorable cherubs anymore, but they’re still too young to be (legally) kicked out of the house. Nobody gushes about cute teen clothes or posts a thousand pictures of a cute thing their teenager did (that’s a good thing!). So, I’d argue few people consider teenagers the future either. At least, not unless they’re joking the future is doomed, thanks to whatever stupid trend is currently getting attention on the internet.

That leaves kids under the age of 13. That’s a very short future.

I was born in 1994, so I’ll use that as an example. After 2007, I was no longer the future. I still had a (terrible) future, but as far as society was concerned, I was no longer “the future”.

Here’s a hopefully not-too-crazy question: Why is the future always romanticized? Why does nobody care about the present?

Presumably, the thought is the present sucks (and I wholeheartedly agree!), but the future eventually becomes the present. If the future is bright, but the present sucks, and the bright future eventually becomes the sucky present, why do we continually look forward to the future? This cycle never stops, which ultimately means it never gets better.

That was certainly a depressing revelation.

Children are the future in the sense they will grow and age over time. But at 13, 18, 25, 30, they are still the future. I’d argue anyone with at least twenty years left to live is the future. But kids are cute blank slates, so it’s much easier to picture a bright future of them before they reach that future.

Every terrible person in history started out as an innocent baby imagined to have a bright future.

It’s (not really) funny children are considered so important for the sake of the future, yet in the present, they’re treated more as things than people. My existence is the product of two people who went “oops” and didn’t know what else to do. So are their existences. And that’s the story for nearly half of all pregnancies in the United States.

Put the pitchforks down! I didn’t say unplanned parenthood equates to being a bad parent.

My point is one would rationally assume if children are the future, and it’s so important, more thought would be put into having a child than what’s for dinner next week. But until recently, having kids was thought of as more “that’s what people do”, to the point it was considered absurd to not a parent. Not having kids is more acceptable today, but there remains certain groups and people (particularly highly religious, but not always) who believe not becoming a parent equates to failing in life. The most common reason given is it’s selfish not to have them, completely ignoring the only possible unselfish reason for having a child is being forced to. Not to mention it’s completely natural to act in the interest of one’s own life. That’s the point.

The retort to that is usually it’s natural to want kids. Homosexuality is natural too, but that’s condemned to the point of being a crime in some countries. Next!

I strayed far from my original point…

To sum all this up, I agree children are the future. They can’t not be. However, they don’t stop being the future when people stop singing songs about it.

People stop being the future when there no longer is a future – bright or dystopian – to look forward to. Maybe the present sucks because more time is spent fantasizing about what can be done later instead of now.

“What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up?”

At seven years old: A veterinarian! (Yes, I could really pronounce that as a small kid.)

At sixteen years old: An artist.

At nineteen years old: An animator.

At twenty years old: A paid blogger?

At twenty-one years old: A livestream gamer?

At twenty-six years old: I have no idea.

My 27th birthday arrives this year. Is it too late?

Eight Years Running

When I first created this blog in 2012, I didn’t think it would last long. Most blogs I’ve had die within a year. This blog has unarguably had its ups and downs of activity, but I’ve somehow managed to keep it going.

A “blog-iversary” isn’t exciting, but I am a little surprised each year this blog stays alive. I always expect to make a goodbye post somewhere down the line, yet somehow, I find the motivation (and content) to continue posting. Part of me wishes I started this blog in 2010 so I could already say it’s been ten years. I suppose I’ll have to keep waiting.

The most unexpected thing is this blog has, in a way, turned into a record of my life. I created it with the intention of ranting and talking about random things on my mind. I’ve done that, but so many of these posts speak of my regular life and not-so-random nuisances too. Maybe I should’ve expected that, but since I didn’t expect this blog to last so long to begin with, I can’t help being a little shocked by the unintentional record I created. I have no regrets, however.

Some of my earlier posts embarrass me and I don’t want to remember I wrote those. Not necessarily because my feelings are different, but simply because of how I wrote them. Then again, there’s a reason I say I’d hit my younger self over the head.

Knowing this blog has survived so long, I now want to keep it going until I can’t anymore. I can’t picture how long it will last, and I will probably be surprised by any length of time, but I do hope the inevitable end is very far down the road.

The Year of No Love?

Seems the only thing I can make last is my job. Which is good.

I came to realize something about my (ex?)boyfriend: he likes sleeping. A lot.

I invited him to sleep at my house since I moved and the others in the household were okay with it. I know he likes to sleep late. However, I assumed it was common manners to not sleep until 3pm in someone else’s home.

Apparently not. In fact, he claims expecting him not to sleep late in my home was an unspoken expectation.

I never realized before that day I had to tell him how to behave. I suppose that’s a lesson about assuming everyone has the same idea of manners as you.

By the time he finally got up, I had to go out for some errands. He didn’t want to come and I didn’t want to argue, so I left him be to play games and YouTube on my TV. And brought back food.

Somehow, he can’t figure out why I’m upset. I feel like this is the line between “lacking foresight” and “being clueless”.

I am by no means super productive on my days off. However, if he only came to sleep all day and play games the rest of the afternoon, why did he want to come at all? By the time I came back, he had to leave within an hour for the bus. I should mention the night before was fine. Only the morning was the problem.

I dared to finally open my mouth about being upset yesterday. Only to be dismissed with an accusation of placing silent expectations on him (again, I’m supposed to tell a grown man how to behave?), and worsening his depression because of my “mood swing” (I was upset since the morning; hardly a mood swing).

I don’t want any more sleepovers at my place or his.

I’m also starting to wonder if I really want this to be my life.

To celebrate our fifth anniversary, we were planning a trip. But I think that planning has now been left to me, and I think I’m going to cancel. I don’t want to spend money on a hotel and park, only for him to sleep every morning away and spend the afternoon and night in the arcade. Yes, I love video games too, but not like that. If I’m going to spend my time alone in the park while he does his thing, why not go alone to begin with?

Come to think of it, I liked cats a lot more too before he got his. I digress.

I said I want to marry him. But I really don’t anymore. It goes without saying I’m not adventurous, but there’d hardly be any difference between him and a platonic roommate. No, I don’t want to spend of my life at war with his sleeping differences.

Before the new year, I was teasing a bit I want to do things like skating and biking with him. He vehemently opposed due to never having done those things, but I want to do them for that reason. But after this, I just invited a friend to go skating when we both find the free time together. She readily agreed.

It’s nice to have someone to do things with, but I think I better re-adjust to doing them alone. He’s not committing a crime. He’s doing what he likes best and I can’t hold it against him. But it’s obvious we don’t match up in that. I suppose there’s a reason for the expression that if you want something done, you have to do it yourself.

I begged him at least once every year of our relationship (minus this one) to take me strawberry-picking. Turns out there are farms for that in my state. I guess I can add that to my list.

As for the trip I mentioned, I guess I’ll go alone, take family, or simply keep the money in my savings.

Maybe “no love” is over-exaggerating. But there is definitely “nothing in common”.

2020 Resolutions

I stopped making resolutions long ago. Mostly because I don’t keep them, or I do keep them and regret it. My only resolution this year is to have a good year, and that’s probably too much to ask.

That said, some good things have already happened within the first four days of the new year. My job transfer request was approved, so I will have a full-time job again. My boyfriend and I were able to leave all the fighting in 2019, and I mean that almost literally since we made up on New Year’s Eve. I now have a counter for the number of days we go without fighting. Finally, I paid off one of my credit cards in full. I got hit with interest charges on the day of the last payment, but I had enough to cover that, so the balance will be zero. I plan to work on my debt this year, going from smallest balance to highest. Apparently, there’s a name for that. It’s called the snowball technique. I don’t care what it’s called. It’s simply how I want to do it.

It is hard to believe a whole decade is over. The start of the decade and the end of it were the worst years of my life. The new 20s are off to a good start for me, so perhaps they’ll have a good end. Of course, I can’t imagine that far ahead.

I considered doing a “one post a day” challenge, similar to “post a week” I did years ago, but quality matters more than quantity. Of course, the jury is out on whether this blog has any quality since it’s ultimately a journal of my life.

2019 really was a wild year, and I hope 2020 proves to be much calmer. I’m not a “wild child”. I want to relax. No school and no customers to deal with should make that less difficult.