the metamorphosis.

ok. so i'm not exactly a bug or frog or something. but goddang, if i don't feel like i've been through several physical/mental/emotional/whoa-yer-a-different-jode-a-ma-toad-something stages.

i had 2 schlitz's (in a mug). a double cheeseburger (courtesy a co-worker). and one extremely delicious $10 maker's manhattan (my newest vice, but really only at the swanky-slash-shitty-basement-bar in the nbc tower after work).

so i guess, sure, i've had a couple beverages or whatever. but dang. walking home, or at least to my public transit to the blue line, i had this crapshoot of an epiphany. i was just strollin', enjoying the spring weather, early/late sunlight, breaking into sunset. 7:15 pm, strolling pseudo-drunkenly past the beggars, walking under trainlines. saw the skyscrapers. the river. the skyline. the, (sigh), downtown chicago cityscape. and naturally, i was listeining to the most random selection on my ipod, and was just digging my grubby lil' unpainted claws into no doubt's '93 release 'tragic kingdom.'

wasn't sure if it was, 'whoa-my-god, i'm not 13 anymore, i think i got my revenge finally' epiphany from the angsty days of 'oh-just-you-wait-argyle, ima bigger and better girl than all ya'll cowdudes', or if it was 'awww man, i miss the days of denying a not-really-but-kinda-i-have-an-8th-grade-crush-on-ryan-wilson (even with his big ears) kinda thing. who cares. i all of a sudden realized 2 things: 1) i'm an adult. like, totally and unescapedly, ima fuckin' adult. i have not just a job, but a grown-up career job. (as i stumbled in my $90 express slacks and non-dry cleaned wrinkly suit jacket). and 2) im not in wisconsin, anymore.

finally gone. and separated. from my (jodi) roots. from my childhood. early adulthood. youth. whatever.

i'm in this purgartory of sorts. but shit ain't all that bad.

still, something about gwen stefani's nasally mall-pop girly vocals (and the sad but still guilty pleasure fact that i knew all the 'super deep men suck' lyrics) just hit me hard.

while i tried to fake stroll in my cheap pay less 'walking' shoes, (because let's face it, while i can rock them 4 incher heels in the office, homegirl cant quite exactly strut down michigan ave at a clipping pace down that subway tunnel), i missed them old days. the days before boys. the days when no doubt and garbage OWNED my cd walkman. when dark blue lipstick from deliah's mail order catalog and long skin tight ankle dress skirts (withOUT bras) was totally in. (or at least according to the wormy unibrowed vision of 14 year old miss jodirobinroot). white mascara. booty shorts. yellow hypercolor platform shoes. doc marten boots. snowboarding. pining after boys from neighboring rural villages. purple/pink lava lamps. feather boas. vinyl vests and pink pleather pants. spencer's fucking gifts.

14 was so fucking cool. and 15? goddamn, i had the courage to chop off all the locks and rock the butch lezzy cut hot. and i didn't fucking care one bit. now? i dream of a cute pixie do. but the best i can do is take misleading facebook profile pics and try to fake out my pals. i mean, fer real? what happened to ballsy jodester. i used to legitimately  not give a fuck. sure, i was clueless. but shit was real.

so yeah, i got down to some spiderwebs. im just a fucking girl, dawg. did i silently sing all the words to 'happy now?' spitefully in my head to every ex-makeout/bf/not-really-love-interest in my head on the cta? hell yes i did. walk into my apartment, peeing full stream and glaring at my pay less kicks, i totally drunkenly let loose to some tone def shout singing of 'don't speak,' much to miss molly's dismay. sunday morning? kel-nik, can't miss you damn homegirls enough. r.i.p. east wash and jt's friendly fucking tavern. (not to mention, jodi discovering her womanly curves at much too late of an age, awkwardly sucked into a skintight gadzooks' floral tan mini dress that belonged to one miss kelly blanke while coffeetabletop jukin' to some kanye's workout plan).

the dells. river falls. argyle/oakley. minnesota. argyle, mother fuckin' wisconsin. i love my girlfriends. i loved me. being all awkward and cute as fuck. without having the slightest clue.

so here i am, 8:30 pm. sitting in my bright ass rainbow afghan, cat calmly chillin' at my feet. too apathetic for productivity, (although i feel like finally i'm an official chirpette! 7 months in and i'm on-air, a member of the music & promotions dept, and have a realzies chirp email address). loving that i'm living my dream. community radio. cat lady. city girl. and i guess, a 'corporate animal,' (at least according to one of my physician colleagues, that is).

oh, and i happen to be dating the man of my dreams - is that a bonus too?

now, if only no doubt wasn't lame and the blue lipstick/white mascara/short-boy-haircut/no bra look would make a comeback. . . .

dang.