I Don't Wanna

I Don't Wanna...

...turn 22
...be an a-dult (and I just pronounced it the way grown-ups do, you know, ah-dult)
...fix my regrowth
...see any more pictures/news about the Jennifer Aniston/Brad Pitt/Angelina Jolie triangle--you know, the triangle/feud that is the fantasy of every major gossip magazine? It's just that--fantasy
...pluck my eyebrows (I actually got started on one and got bored, so now they're really uneven)
...ever rake frozen leaves ever, ever again
...push back my cuticles--why cuticles, God?
...edit my book anymore
...deep clean my room in search for clean socks and underwear

I Do Wanna...

...stare at cute babies and their chubby thighs
...watch reruns of House for a day straight
...work on my new book
...find a thousand dollars under a rock somewhere
...hug a random gay person and tell them they're fabulous and deserve equal rights
...be a panelist on Bill Maher, talking about the octuplet nightmare and feminism (not connected necessarily)
...make my boyfriend paint my toenails scarlet red
...tell certain people I live with to shut up, shut up, shut UP!
...listen to 90s one-hit wonders on my iPod and reminisce about Jnco jeans, hacky sacks, bad bob haircuts, dog tag necklaces, baby blue camouflage shirts, Nickelodeon, the Olsen twins, and Gushers (I'll sing the "chicken shit" part of Hand in my Pocket by Alanis Morissette, just so I can feel rebellious again)
...find a college that will let me major in poetry

I Don't Wanna...

I Don't Wanna...
...Pluck my eyebrows, even though they're frightening people
...Do any laundry, even though I haven't had clean underwear in four days
...Eat a vegetable (potato chips probably don't count this time)
...Get up to muzzle the cat, even though she's meowing at 80 decibels
...Censor the words I really want to say
...Ever get a cell phone again and have to endure TEXT MESSAGE CHAIN LETTERS (that's right--could anything be more obnoxious?)
...Sweat, and I mean through exercise, not just a hot shower

I DO Wanna...
...Keep drooling over Portia De Rossi and her perfect hair/legs/ass/smile/ass/ass/ass
...Be jolly, as the season does require
...Curl up and daydream about a wedding and an apartment to decorate
...Figure out what the hell's going through the head of every extremist Republican I know (I have a feeling this will be a lifelong pursuit)
...Be a motivational speaker someday and milk rich self-conscious people for all they've got
...Be a good girl (if I come home with a tattoo after my first night on the job, no one should be surprised)

I Don't Wanna...

...Get a real job
...Eat any fruit
...Haul my lazy butt up the stairs to use the bathroom AGAIN
...Read anything but Nietzsche
...Move out yet
...Live two states away from boyfriend anymore
...Live in single life without boyfriend as husband anymore
...Exercise just for the endorphins (I can think of other things to give me endorphins)
...Have to build another small fire in my bedroom to thaw myself out before sleeping
...Go to church on Sunday and sit through another lesson about Zion
...Wear regular bras that aren't spandex uni-boob sports bras
...Bribe my cat to come snuggle with pathetic unlovable me
...Refer to myself as pathetic and unlovable
...Try to trick boyfriend again into calling me unpathetic and completely lovable (and pretty)
...Have anything to do with credit, mortgages, down payments, insurances, or any other grown-up terms
...Use my bank account (how about just using my mattress?)
...Medicate
...Re-read this in a week and laugh at how whiny I sound (even though I know I will, because by then I'll be on an "up")
...Stop rolling my eyes at dumb people just because my mom says I look six years younger when I do it
...Wash my hair (I just did it)
...Hear any more Neil Diamond or Barbra Streisand Christmas covers (but don't you leave me, Amy Grant, not yet)
...Pass any mirrors unless I'm in my hottie-butt-hugger jeans
...Wear my hottie-butt-hugger jeans
...Drag my ass back downstairs to lay in bed and stare at my ceiling while my family slumbers peacefully on the third floor