The Future for Curious People - Pg 171

   I do not know how to get from here to there--I do not know where there is. If I knew that, I'd have a better chance of getting there. I am not a grown-up. I ride a bicycle and glue flowers on my rain boots. Last year, I hosted a cocktail party but realized I didn't know how to make any cocktails. We drank out of mugs and jelly jars. I have a job and a best friend who steals things like a juvenile delinquent. We talk about our crushes. What if life goes on this way--on and on. It can't. Once, I was an eleven-year-old who was terrified that I would never be able to give up playing with Barbies. I'd be a closet Barbie player my entire life--a dark hidden shame. Were there more like me? Was there a support group? And then one day I realized I hadn't played with them in ages. It was over. How will this part of my life be over?
   And worse, why would I want it to ever end?