Anti Peter Pan Syndrome

2008 is turning out to be a very interesting year indeed. A seminal one, it seems, in the life of Cars. It's almost as if an outside force is acting on me to squeeze out every last drop of Never Never land. Literally, like a physical force. I just got this wild hair up my ass to like, grow up and like, do stuff. Grown up stuff. Like get a Master's degree. And register to vote. And maybe get a job that's slightly more challenging and fulfilling. And possibly stop dating emotionally unavailable lads.

A few weeks ago my lip ejected my lip ring. Ejected! Like "Get out of here, ring, you are unwanted!" I've had it for eight years! Gone now. And guess what's next? The tongue bar. Obtained at the ripe, young, immature age of fifteen, before I'd even Frenched a boy (long before, in fact). A few weeks ago one of my teeth started to hurt, the one that tends to bear the brunt of the force when I gnaw on the barbell. I didn't really make the connection, I sort of just thought it might be a cavity from all the delicious cupcakes and cookies, I guess it was a denial thing. But my dentist, she's got no reason to deny nothin'. Take it out for a couple of weeks, she said today. See how your tooth feels. And maybe...keep it out. Keep it out. If my tongue hole (man that sounds gross) closes as fast as my lip hole did then I won't really have an option. And then I'll be all growed up.