The Product of Developmental Retardation: How Not To Be Like Me

I was reading a Newsweek article today on how a woman's fertility may in some ways be subject to her diet. And no, I'm neither attempting to create little Stephanies, nor using my diet as some sort of natural means of birth control. Anyway, a certain scenario emerged in my thoughts as I read. You see, my sisters stand 5' 10" and 5' 8.5" tall (that .5" does matter). I stand 5' 7" tall. It occurred to me that a likely reason why I may be the runt of the litter is that my father smoked around me - often in relatively closed quarters of the house - for a good chunk of my growing years. This was not the case when my sisters were children. Now, I know this has nothing to do with fertility, per se, but the article got me in the growth and development line of thinking. When I was a child I always said I wanted to grow to be 5'9"... I wonder if I had any true chance of making it there. Maybe I just got more of my mom's genes. She was 5' 6.75".

Another largely unrelated topic that I reflected upon today, among many, many other days throughout my life, involves the concept of identity. I've dealt with a precarious coincidence over the years, one which has caused me to think that it's really no coincidence at all. It seems I've been living a dual identity. For as long as I can remember, nearly every time someone forgets or fumbles on my name, I am mistaken for a 'Jennifer'. This might not seem odd at first; Jennifer, much like Stephanie, is made of three syllables, has the same 'fff' 'nnn' and 'eh' sounds, and I'd consider them to be more common names than not. But this has even happened with people - nay, strangers! - who hadn't really ever heard my name before - people who had never been introduced to me, or who actually mistook me in a public place for a friend of theirs who happened to be named, you guessed it, Jennifer. Let's just put it this way: by the time I was no more than 10 years-old, I had been mistaken as a 'Jennifer' so many times that even at that tender age, I thought those happenstances were extremely uncanny. At that age I had never experienced an 'uncanny' situation nor did I even know what the word meant. But I have a distinct memory of the point in time when I started to be weirded out by this nominal identity that new people who crossed my path clung to. Sure, I've gotten a 'Samantha' a few times over the years - but no more than a few times, and proportionally speaking, those 'Samanthas' in no way even remotely compare to the dozens of 'Jennifers' I've received. And this strange trend still occurs to this day! As often as new people forget my name, I get called Jennifer (and considering ya meet people out at bars or parties, people's memories aren't exactly at their peak, you know how the story goes - I encounter plenty of name-forgetters).

So how has this strange misnomer affected my sense of self? Has it stunted my development or impeded any deep self-exploration in some way? Perhaps it's offered me a more liberating self-perception: I don't have to by any one thing in particular, I can be many things, varying kinds of people within my one person. Then again, maybe it's the reason I talk to myself when I'm alone, as if I have many different personalities keeping me company.

Age ain't nothin' but a number

Now that I'm 24 years old, the world seems so much different. When Monday rolled around, people immediately started calling me "ma'am" and asking for my advice on their difficult life predicaments. My landlord asked me if I was in the market to buy real estate. My dad attempted to casually ask me when I plan on settling down and giving him some more grandchildren. Being an adult is weird!

But actually, I want to know what "adult" means. Dictionary.com first defines it as, "having attained full size and strength; grown up; mature" - but I'm pretty sure I haven't attained full size yet (unfortunately) or strength (recently started working out); 'grown up'... hmm, I'll have to do a separate search for that term; mature... well isn't that relative? In fact, I think the whole notion of adulthood is pretty relative and subjective. Of course, I'm not going to argue that the 45 year-old who was smashing mailboxes with the local high school kids just a couple weeks ago still has yet to reach adulthood (he's an adult whether he's ready to admit it or not). However, I think there's about a 20 year span of room for interpretation based on one's experiences. For example, some 15 year-olds are thrust into adulthood out of need to provide for others. For some, the feeling of being an adult might not come until 35. I think a common thread, though, in being considered an adult is the necessity to provide for others. Having kids is definitely the most determining factor of adulthood. And for those who don't (want to) have kids? The determining factors probably include ownership of property, reaching a certain tax bracket, or marriage.

I DO know that I still feel just as much like a kid now as I ever have. It has it's pluses and minuses obviously. And I'm still realistic about it; I actually have a career (which still feels strange to say). But part of me wonders when that morning will come that I wake up and think, "so this is what it feels like to be an adult." Okay, so I'm pretty sure that's not how it happens, but hopefully you get my point. I feel as if I've been in a state of limbo for the past couple years now and me thinks it's time to raise the bar for my standards... I want adult standards for my youthful lifestyle. I want "things" that are new and nice - my things are old and tattered and break all the time, because as a kid, that's all I could afford. I want to be able to thrive on only 6 hours of sleep, like I witness in all adults - I am incapable of waking up before 8am and as a result it seems like I wake up, go to work, come home from work, eat, and then go right back to sleep... so my need for 8+ hours of sleep leaves me with few non-work waking hours. I guess I want to be capable of juggling more activities and responsibility, without becoming a rigid bore (just kidding, to any 'adults' reading this). I know it's possible, I just don't know how to make that transition.

Enough about my almost quarter life crisis. For my Golden Birthday this year, this is what I did: LCD Soundsystem & Arcade Fire concert on Thursday night, Josh & Karen threw me a surprise party on Friday night(!!!), Saturday went out to brunch and dinner with a bunch of friends, Sunday I went to Lauren's grandfather's funeral :( but hers is like my second family so it was good to see them, Monday I took the day off work and Josh forgot it was my actual birthday (we can joke about it now, right??) but then he felt so bad that he took the afternoon off work to bring me the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers (flowers make up for anything!), I went shopping, got a Thai massage (ouch! and most likely never again), and then went out for some delicious Yang Chow Chinese food with my family, and finally, on Tuesday, Katie took me out for my favorite sushi dinner.

That's it. I'm getting old. Maybe soon I'll start acting like it.

Thanks for tuning in.