Of Mid-Mid Life Crises and Cupcakes...
In exactly a month from today I will be.... 23 years old.
*Cue dramatic music and blood curdling screams*
While I realize that in all reality this is really not that old, but given that half the time I feel like I'm still a clueless flat-chested-zit-faced 7th grader this does in fact feel REALLY REALLY OLD.
Regardless of whether it’s true or not, I feel like the decisions I make now are the ones that are going to shape the rest of my life, and this gives me all sorts of anxiety. Perhaps it’s because I still don’t know what I want to be when I “grow up”. Maybe I’m just overwhelmed because I have so many interests and women have so many options these days and there are so many things I could do with my life and it all gets me slightly confused and flustered to think about and when I get confused and flustered I tend to get anxiety which leads to panic because I’m just that high strung like that. Why, just last week one of my closest friends told me she really thinks I need to start smoking more pot because I’m too high strung. I don’t think I’m THAT high strung. Maybe just a little.
My Mother was married when she was 23. I also realize that in this day and age it is no longer the norm to be married by 22/23, but it doesn’t change that fact that she was married when she was my age and it makes me think about when marriage is going to be a relevant topic in my life. Despite my drunken tendencies I actually have a strong maternal streak, one that rivals those of Jewish mothers, or so I’m told, and part of me wants to get married and start having babies. Little girls with little curls that I can dress up in patent leather mary janes and lacy socks and pinafores and all that nonsense. Little blonde devils, oh how adorable. I should start babysitting again, that’ll remind me real quick that I don’t want kids. I have friends that are engaged, some that are already married and some who already have kids. I swear it seems like just yesterday that this one girl and I were taking buttery nipple shots at Ozio and getting trashed, and now she’s a mom. Moms shouldn’t drink buttery nipples, something about it just seems wrong. My last boyfriend mentioned marriage, not to me mind you, just marriage in particular, and I freaked out. He said his Dad was married at this age too and that he thought he should be married in like a year. I proceeded to panic, then hyperventilate, then break out in hives, and we aren’t together anymore.
I don’t even know what career path I want to take. Obviously I loathe being an office assistant, but I haven’t really made any serious attempts to find a new job because I have no fucking clue what it is I want to do. I did want to be an event planner for a while, but now I think I want to be a chef. I love to plan parties and I love to cook. But I don’t like to work for people. I have problems being told what to do. There’s a voice inside me that says “fuck you I won’t do what you tell me” for no other reason than I just don’t like doing what people tell me to. It makes my ass twitch. Ok, and usually I’m right and they are wrong so my way is usually better anyways. I am more stubborn than a donkey on crack so when I don’t want to do something it becomes a long and languorous process and a never-ending battle of procrastination. I am the procrastination queen I tell you. And I suck at keeping my mouth shut and my opinions to myself. At our staff meeting this morning it was my turn to tell everyone what my tasks were for this week and I almost said “myspace, facebook, blogs, shopping” just because. I need a new job. I have all these fantastic business ideas, but starting your own business needs mucho money that I don’t have.
I also want to do the whole “backpack around Europe” thing, except I don’t make enough money right now to really afford anything except for hostels, and if you know me, then you know hostels just aren’t an option. (Even more so after that ridiculous bloody movie.) My Arab ex-boyfriend wants me to meet him in Spain for the summer and all I’d have to pay for is the ticket. This is one of those terrible ideas where you tell yourself it’s secretly a good one, like a good idea in wolf’s clothing or something, but deep down you know it’s probably one of the stupidest things you could ever do. I’d end up kidnapped and it would be “Not Without My Daughter” all over again.
Ok that’s it I’m starting to give myself a mid-mid-life-crisis-panic-attack thinking about it, enough of this subject.
The only thing I do know for sure is that for my birthday I am going to crowd as many people into my studio apartment as is comfortable and throw a huge Champagne and Cupcakes birthday celebration and get everyone drunker than a Kennedy.
*Cue dramatic music and blood curdling screams*
While I realize that in all reality this is really not that old, but given that half the time I feel like I'm still a clueless flat-chested-zit-faced 7th grader this does in fact feel REALLY REALLY OLD.
Regardless of whether it’s true or not, I feel like the decisions I make now are the ones that are going to shape the rest of my life, and this gives me all sorts of anxiety. Perhaps it’s because I still don’t know what I want to be when I “grow up”. Maybe I’m just overwhelmed because I have so many interests and women have so many options these days and there are so many things I could do with my life and it all gets me slightly confused and flustered to think about and when I get confused and flustered I tend to get anxiety which leads to panic because I’m just that high strung like that. Why, just last week one of my closest friends told me she really thinks I need to start smoking more pot because I’m too high strung. I don’t think I’m THAT high strung. Maybe just a little.
My Mother was married when she was 23. I also realize that in this day and age it is no longer the norm to be married by 22/23, but it doesn’t change that fact that she was married when she was my age and it makes me think about when marriage is going to be a relevant topic in my life. Despite my drunken tendencies I actually have a strong maternal streak, one that rivals those of Jewish mothers, or so I’m told, and part of me wants to get married and start having babies. Little girls with little curls that I can dress up in patent leather mary janes and lacy socks and pinafores and all that nonsense. Little blonde devils, oh how adorable. I should start babysitting again, that’ll remind me real quick that I don’t want kids. I have friends that are engaged, some that are already married and some who already have kids. I swear it seems like just yesterday that this one girl and I were taking buttery nipple shots at Ozio and getting trashed, and now she’s a mom. Moms shouldn’t drink buttery nipples, something about it just seems wrong. My last boyfriend mentioned marriage, not to me mind you, just marriage in particular, and I freaked out. He said his Dad was married at this age too and that he thought he should be married in like a year. I proceeded to panic, then hyperventilate, then break out in hives, and we aren’t together anymore.
I don’t even know what career path I want to take. Obviously I loathe being an office assistant, but I haven’t really made any serious attempts to find a new job because I have no fucking clue what it is I want to do. I did want to be an event planner for a while, but now I think I want to be a chef. I love to plan parties and I love to cook. But I don’t like to work for people. I have problems being told what to do. There’s a voice inside me that says “fuck you I won’t do what you tell me” for no other reason than I just don’t like doing what people tell me to. It makes my ass twitch. Ok, and usually I’m right and they are wrong so my way is usually better anyways. I am more stubborn than a donkey on crack so when I don’t want to do something it becomes a long and languorous process and a never-ending battle of procrastination. I am the procrastination queen I tell you. And I suck at keeping my mouth shut and my opinions to myself. At our staff meeting this morning it was my turn to tell everyone what my tasks were for this week and I almost said “myspace, facebook, blogs, shopping” just because. I need a new job. I have all these fantastic business ideas, but starting your own business needs mucho money that I don’t have.
I also want to do the whole “backpack around Europe” thing, except I don’t make enough money right now to really afford anything except for hostels, and if you know me, then you know hostels just aren’t an option. (Even more so after that ridiculous bloody movie.) My Arab ex-boyfriend wants me to meet him in Spain for the summer and all I’d have to pay for is the ticket. This is one of those terrible ideas where you tell yourself it’s secretly a good one, like a good idea in wolf’s clothing or something, but deep down you know it’s probably one of the stupidest things you could ever do. I’d end up kidnapped and it would be “Not Without My Daughter” all over again.
Ok that’s it I’m starting to give myself a mid-mid-life-crisis-panic-attack thinking about it, enough of this subject.
The only thing I do know for sure is that for my birthday I am going to crowd as many people into my studio apartment as is comfortable and throw a huge Champagne and Cupcakes birthday celebration and get everyone drunker than a Kennedy.
posted by The Blonde Menace at 11:37 AM
8 Comments:
Okay... this isn't fair. You should not be making me feel old - I'm 25 for crying out loud!
Though if it makes you feel any better, I've got no idea what I want to do, and I've got 2½ years on you.
I'm sorry Mr. 66, my goal is not to make anyone feel old!!! It's tough being an adult sometimes dude.
Hey, you're not old. When creepy old guys stop hitting on you in bars, that's when you're old.
Wait a second...
I'm 34 and I'm reading a 22 year old's blog. How does that happen? I must be older than dirt to you.
Here is my take on your situation based on the fact that I was once 22 and wondering what the hell to do with my life.
Actually, you never stop wondering that. The day you stop wondering what to do with your life and stop trying for something better is the day you stop growing. And we should never stop growing.
And I don't believe anyone has to be married in their 20's, unless it is what they both want. I waited until 34 to get engaged, and my fiancee is only a couple of years younger than me. Waiting until your 30's is OK.
I used my twenties to gain life experience, and screw up at the same time. I became much smarter about life because of it. And I still have lots to learn.
Whatever you do, don't look back on your twenties as the time that you wasted. They are great years. Sometimes I wish mine were better. I spent a lot of time holding myself back from a lot of things because of my lack of confidence. But at least I resolved to make my thirties better. So good came out of it.
Keep on keeping on. Your path will be established in time. And have a buttery nipple for me.
Steve I don't think you are older than dirt!!! I guess I'm worried that one day I will look back on my twenties and regret not doing more with the time that I had. Which I guess is all the more reason for me to try to do eveything I want to do now, so I don't look back in regret. It's nice to know that people understand how I feel though you know. And the next time I go out I will order a buttery nipple in your name, I haven't had one in like 2 years. And hopefully I'll get hit on by some really creepy old guys, like HIN says, hahahaha.
Menace--I'm 27 and to me 23 is SOOO young. You are still have that fresh faced right out of college thing going on...
I wrote a post like this about a month ago...I got some amazing insight and wrote almost something IDENTICAL to what you wrote....thats how much I feel you...just remember you are SUPER young...
Half my friends got married by 25-26 and the rest of us even the coupled down ones...arent getting married till 28 PLUS...dont rush PLEASE. I was So diff at 23 and quite honestly--if you have your life all figured out by then...thats kind of boring no? Some things are great to have done but others? Its fun to learn, experience, live. :-)
Youve got time baby. :-) Enjoy!!
Don't get married until you are at least 30. Your 20's are for having fun, meeting people, living, loving, and learning who you really are. Being 30 rocks, too- more money, better quality of men, better sex- but you have plenty of time to worry about that. Just wear your sunscreen- it's never too early to fight wrinkles.
Just wait 'til you're on the verge of turning 30. Then come back and read this. (Alas, for me, I had to read actual handwritten journal entries, but it accomplished the same thing.)
Relax. The decisions don't get easier, but you eventually realize that the only things that matter are the things that make you happy -- and the rest are meaningless distractions and not worth the effort or the anxiety.
Post a Comment
<< Home