my utterly teenage moment, two years late.

call me a late bloomer, i couldn't deny it. i'm not a wallflower, i'm a wallbud. i'm a really bad teenager. i'm nothing like the kids in the movies. i don't party every weekend. i don't sneak out, get drunk, and have lie to my parents about it. i don't have a group of friends that i cling to and raise hell with after school. i don't get detentions and think i'm a total badass. i don't even have a driver's license; i don't like cars.

and it's not because i necessarily disapprove of these things, i don't, but i also just haven't done them.

so as a high school senior, i do feel like a bit of a failure on the teenager front. but, whatever, i accept this failure.

occasionally though, i find myself in a situation so utterly teenage that it makes me giggle. yesterday i had one of these teenage moments. i had been at an open mic at school where my friend and his buddies took the stage with no set plan. they played noise, screamed, and my friend stripped down to his boxers and socks, all in about ten minutes.

then he and his friend offered to drive me home and i accepted and we listened to a nirvana cassette in his friend's car. i repeat: a nirvana cassette in his friend's car.

i'm kind of unused to not having an "adult" (read: someone i'd rather not be in a car with) around when i'm in a car, because, as i said before, i don't have a license. but in so many great teen movies, cars are so important. so there's that. and then nirvana. god, how, i don't know, teenager. i realize that "teenager" as an adjective sucks, but i'm too teenager to care.
wouldn't this moment be much more perfect if i was sixteen?, i thought, if i was a more suburban kid, and my parents had given me car keys for my sixteenth birthday? yes, yes but the city has stunted my teenager and now i ride quietly around on my bicycle.