I fear that I may be getting older. I realized this today when I made a 'yo mama' joke to a friend of mine at work. "My mothers dead," she said after I told her the PLU code for cabbage was her mother. I felt terrible but I would have felt worse had it been the first I had said a joke to someone about their mother who had died without my knowledge. The first time was in highschool. I was a sophomore at a new school and given my shyness, flamboyancy and utter social ineptitude; I had but one friend. Her name was Terra.
We were at the lunch table discussing our favorite websites, among myspace and AIM one of my favorites was maddox.xmissions.com where this astonishing ass hole who went by codename: maddoxx, wrote angry rants. The only thing funnier than reading this guys rants, was reading his hatemail. One rant about how stupid you have to be to die in a house fire, as fire moves at 2.3 miles per hour, was a favorite of mine. It also covered mothers dying in fires trying to save their children. It wasn't that I found hilarity in the death of people who die in fires, I simply enjoyed talking about something and reading something so void of consideration and able to put sick twisted humor into horrible things. I was telling Terra and the gang of highschool renegades about this blog and how funny it was when out of no where Terra starts bawling. It was soon after Terra ran to the bathroom cupping her face with her hands, that I was informed of how Terra's mother had died. She died saving her in a house fire when she was a toddler. This not only explained her sobbing but the burn scars on her arms.
Even though I didn't directly insult her mother, I did inadvertently send the message that people who die in fires are stupid, her mother being one of those people. I've always been told I'm an ass hole and even know as I write this I can't help but think maybe people are right in saying that. People think I'm an ass hole because my sense of humor is so demented. I know there is a line, and I very rarely cross it, but I'm still nor will I ever be above laughing at a three legged ally cat or even a good Jonbenet Ramsey joke. I don't really think the murder of Jonbenet Ramsey was funny, but I feel better about the world when I can make something that awful into a laughing matter. I probably shouldn't laugh at things like that, I guess there is no good way to explain dark humor. You either get it or you don't.
But after today I'm going to try really hard to keep my lips on lock down and not say things that might possibly hurt someone. I think this means I'm getting older for two reasons. The first being, I'm growing up and becoming a more considerate and empathetic human being. The second, I'm getting old enough to where when I say a 'yo mama' joke, I'm saying it to my peers and my peers are old enough to have mothers who are dying or have died. We are not in grade school anymore where your mother jokes don't effect people becuase the vast majority of kids have 26 year old healthy parents. I'm not in grade school anymore, I myself am almost 26, and the people I love are losing people they love.
I don't know if I'm cut out for being an adult. I've been avoiding it for 6 years now. Just for an example, earlier this evening I picked my nose and pulled out a frighteningly large, bulbous, bloody booger. Now usually, when I pick my nose I wipe it on the nearest surface. Take for instance, the underbelly of my drivers side car seat; it is so covered in boogers I'm going to need an ice pick to scrape them off if I ever decide to sell it. I walked around my dining room for about 45 entire seconds searching for a place to wipe it before realizing that it would have taken less time to grab a tissue from the bathroom and flush it than the search and rescue mission I had embarked upon. I decided to do the grown up thing and wipe it undernieth the kitchen chair arm rest.
How am I supposed to be an adult when I can't even muster up the grown up energies needed to wipe my boogers on anything other than dry wall and chairs? I'm scared. I'm scared at how stagnate I have become in my paralyzed fear of adult hood. I mean I pay my bills, go to my full time job, arrange and set up art shows, but something is missing inside of me that makes me feel and act like an adult. Maybe I'm missing out on personal fulfillment, which I am, and that's the reason I don't yet identify with words like, man, adult, and responsible. Or Maybe, being a grown up is like dark humor.
You either get it or you don't.
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