27.

Several weeks ago…

Rae: What do you want to do for your birthday?

Me: I don’t know. Probably nothing. It’s 27, nothing special.

Rae: Oh my God. I can’t believe you’re that old. That was weird to hear just now. Wow, you’re 27.

Me: Exactly. Not celebrating.

Rae: That’s even more reason to do something. Man, 27 was a terrible year.

Me: Thanks, Rae. This conversation keeps getting better and better.

Twenty-seven. That is solidly creeping toward 30. But that’s not why I feel old. (David told me the other day that I am an old soul – my siblings are so uplifting!) I feel old because I find myself thinking on a regular basis things like: “Dude, just pull up your pants” and “Kids these days.”

I feel old because I use the word “kids” to refer to college aged people. Because college aged people call me ma’am and Ms. Martin and Ms. Amber. Because I do remember “back when.” Because I put a “the” in front of words that don’t require it – like “the MARTA” or “the Kroger.” Because I really don’t understand why some youtube videos are funny or why some pop songs are popular.

But none of this is very new. I’ve always been a little older than my number. (I am an old soul.) What is new though is this feeling that society asks more from me, or soon will. I am running out of this grace period where wandering is still ok and not having a solid career or family life or semblance of stability is acceptable. Perhaps to some I am well past this grace period.

Here I am anyway, at twenty..seven.. trying to figure out life, still.

Twenty seven could be a great year. In a few months I will be embarking on a new adventure. What that adventure will be is yet to be defined, but let’s not talk about that right now. (Enter my Scarlett O’Hara mode = think about it tomorrow and survive against all the odds, and vow never to go hungry again.)

Whatever adventure it is, whether it’s more school or more travel or more working for little to no money or more unemployment, it’s always worked itself into an exciting sort of tale. It will be something new, and that is always stimulating. Hard sometimes, sure, but invigorating nonetheless.

This past year has been absolutely amazing, truly and shockingly against all my worries that it may not be, so this can only bode well for this coming year . . . right?

Fall perfection

There are a few things in this world that elicit a sort of feeling of transcendence.

Among those things for me are (of course) chocolate and a perfect fall day. Yesterday was a perfect fall day. The temperature was just brisk enough that breathing in through my nose stung a little while I was taking a walk. The crunch of the leaves beneath my feet broke the silence of the afternoon just as it should. The sky was as blue as sky-blue-possible. (And later the moon was bright and inviting.) The colors of the trees are brilliant. It was brilliant.

It’s almost enough to make you forget all your frustrations and worries and shortcomings. It’s one of those lose-yourself-in-the-goodness kind of days.

And today seems like a repeat. Happy fall! Enjoy the day.

Reminiscence

Friday night. Cheap wine. Marathon Sex and the City episodes. It could be freshmen year of college again. All that is missing is my girls.

But alas, it is no longer 2004 anymore. It is nearly 2012 – eek, 8 years! No, it is certainly not 2004. How things have changed. We’ve grown so; we’ve done so much; some of us are married; some of us are mommies! How did this happen?

It sometimes feels that we all live such separate lives. It sometimes feels, although you know that you know that there are people who would always and forever be there for you when you need them, it sometimes feels that as grown up people we live our lives fully alone – despite whomever and whatever we occupy ourselves with each day. I, at least, sometimes feel disconnected.

I suppose this is simply the reality of things. Things must change. We must move along. Move along.

Some things have not changed. I still love Steve Brady. (I’m still Miranda circa season 2.) I still hate Big. Aiden Shaw is still sexy. I still enjoy cheap wine. I wish my girls were here.

There’s a very huge part of me that wishes we all lived on the same hall again. I wish we all had the freedom of time to spend every weekend visiting one another wherever we happened to be in our lives.

But then, we all live such fabulous lives now – and who wouldn’t miss that? ;)

Halloween Thought

A short post:

A realization after browsing your Halloween facebook pics..

If you are under the age of 10, Halloween is the cutest of all the holidays.

If you are over the age of 18, Halloween is the skankiest of all the holidays.

I think it can go either way in between those ages - and that is up to the parents. (Good luck parents.)

Opportunity costs

I could be living beachside in south Florida working to end homelessness right now.

Do you ever wonder what your life would be if you had made one choice differently? Or why in the world you chose the choices you did?

I could also still be working for people I don’t respect or living in Newark, NJ. These are some nightmares that I am glad to have given up. Not that either of those situations were really that bad. And they did pay almost living wages.

Opportunity costs – the economic principle that states that you should consider the possible benefits you are giving up by pursuing a particular set of activities. (I had an economics exam this week – just go with it.)

Truthfully, this principle is a terrible one. (Especially if you consider it in hindsight.) It, like most of economics, is a way to make a simple task more complicated. Analyze this, it says. And ok, perhaps it is good to look at your options and consider what you would be giving up if you decided not to take that path, or that one, or this other one that also seems fine.

But at some point, you have to freaking choose. And the truth is all of the paths have merit and experiences worth having and benefits worth considering. So is it really, really that important to tally up the things you will be missing by not doing something?

Ok, ok. I suppose the point is: what are the benefits worth to you? Are you willing to give up a little stability for some education? Are you willing to give up a little money for the chance to gain some experience? Are you willing to leave a place or a job or some loved ones to escape melancholy, to pursue happiness?

Think about the people you have met, the places you’ve seen, (the things you’ve learned), the existential goodness that you’ve known. And this will lead to even better things, in all hopefulness. But I suppose that it is all relative. Better than what could have been?

Who wants to live beachside anyway?

Functionally crazy

I had a realization the other day: I am a functioning crazy person. I borrow the term from the idea of a “functioning alcoholic” – you know, when it is clear that someone struggles with what should be debilitating, but is still (for the moment) able to get through the day-to-day. My form of crazy is that my mind is never silent. I am forever running through my plans and lists for the day, the week, the rest of my life. Words, sentences are constant in my brain. If this sounds frustrating, anxiety-producing, or annoying, it is.

I find myself walking down the street completely entranced by my worries for the future, introspection, and what I should be doing, should have done, should do tomorrow… I get lost in all of this and find it hard to appreciate where I am right now.

(I really need to learn to stop talking to myself when I’m alone – I confess that I have complete, often two-sided conversations with myself, sometimes aloud. If anyone ever observed me, they would certainly determine that there was some sort of psychological disorder.)

What is crazy? Am I crazy? I could very easily be. There’s a line at the end of Girl, Interrupted exploring the what-is-crazy question: “Crazy isn’t being broken, or swallowing a dark secret. It’s you or me, amplified.”

I would take this definition a step further. It’s not an amplified version of a person. It’s an amplification of one very specific part of a personality. It’s when your life becomes defined by an inability to be your whole self. It’s when your struggles, your tendency toward some behavior, your emotional disposition control all of the rest of who you are. Your multifaceted self becomes secondary to this one trait.

(The voice that won’t shut up in my head keeps telling me things like this.)

Cooking. This is what I have found allows me to focus on something external and brings me into the moment. Thank God for that.

Coming of Age

I love coming of age movies, love them. Seriously, The Trouble with Angels, Stand by Me, The Sandlot, Now and Then, and most recently, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants – love them. When I was in middle school, I watched Now and Then nearly every day. My brother finally hid it from me, and my mom didn’t make him give it back. It’s a little absurd.

What is it about these movies about adolescence that I love so much? It’s hard to say really. I didn’t exactly love my own adolescence.

I will point out a very important fact: most of these movies breeze past the future that is the characters’ twenties. They fast forward to the characters’ thirties and forties to let you know “how they turned out.” (Oh this decade long quarter life crisis, how uninspiring you are!)

But I think it’s the idea that life is malleable that intrigues me. It’s a reminder of the possibilities of what we can be. All coming of age movies have elements of adventure, self-discovery, hope, and uncertainty.

And friendship, there is always friendship. This is something that I feel becomes secondary in action flicks, rom coms, and dramas that we come to appreciate later in life. Perhaps that is where my affinity for these movies lies.

And, ok, there’s also a touch of rebellion in these movies that appeals to me. This is something I didn’t do enough. (Is it too late now?)