I have spent the day unpacking and watching movies about summer
Specifically kid movies about summer (“Now & Then” and “The Sandlot”)
I think I’m pretending to be 6 years old instead of a college graduate less than three months short of her 22nd birthday. Sorry I’m not sorry.
But there’s something amazing about these movies. I was talking to two guys about Sandlot (because I highly doubt they’ve seen Now & Then…and we were all like “man I wish that was MY childhood) Granted, my summers were decent. I’d be sent off to day camp and usually hid under short trees with my best friend to avoid having to put on really nasty shin guards and play soccer with the boys.
So I’ve decided this summer…once I’m done throwing out half the stuff I own and unpacking…in between volunteering…I’m going to get free furniture off Craigslist and fix it up for the future apartment and read a ton of books…and sell the books I bought and didn’t like on Amazon because I’m too poor for this shit.
I’m kind of ok with this too…oh and going to the beach with future roomie.
We had lunch today…and I love her :]
So I’m looking at jobs
I found this website that lists a bunch of social work careers…
granted I can’t apply for these jobs until after I graduate…graduate school…with my masters…in 2 years.
But there ARE jobs out there, near me! And they sound so exciting!
I can do this.
sigh apartment hunting has begun folks
if you don’t know, I’m moving to the city.
(for all of you who aren’t from my corner of the world, I mean New York City)
well I’ve started the online apartment hunt.
I just want my own bedroom for under like $800 a month with (a) normal housemate(s).
And I want to live with people who aren’t crazy, smoking, alcoholic, cat-owning, party animal, satanic freaks who will steal all my stuff and chop me to bits and sprinkle me through Central Park.
That shouldn’t be that hard right?
So I applied to NYU last night
and I called up this morning to make sure all my supporting documents had arrived.
Woman basically hung up on me and told me she was too busy to check…
well I certainly hope it arrived as it’s due in two weeks and I’m not sure there’ll be time to send it again.
Next up? Hunter College!
I think I may have accidentally become an adult.
I remember this scene in a movie that I saw when I was little
(and by “saw when I was little” I actually mean I saw this particular Mary-Kate and Ashley movie when I was about 5 [‘How the West was Fun’] and watched it about 100 times until I was 11 and have since watched watched it at least every other year…including last week. Because at 21 years old, the movies I loved the most as a Pre-K student make me happy. I admit to this.)
Anyway, there’s a scene in the movie where the father is talking to his romantic interest and he says something like “I always thought one day I’d wake up and feel all grown up…and it never happened.”
I always thought my life would be like that…waiting to grow up and it would never really occur…simply because this movie (and several others + a dozen or so books told me so)
When I was little I wanted to grow up so badly. I mean from the time I was six my favorite sort of shopping has been for office supplies. I used to hang out in my dad’s supply closet and steal different colored pens and paper clips and then play with the shredder. That’s the kind of kid I was. (Plus acting out weird scenes with my Barbie dolls…the Hunchback of Notre Dame scene where they try to burn the girl alive for sorcery? Yeah for some reason that was my thing) I was kind of a kooky little kid looking back on it. I was kind of a weird little person and I guess I still am.
One of my best friends and I recently spent something like eight hours in the car together and we talked about the kind of teenagers we had been (not that it was so long ago, but we met when I was 19 and she was 20 so we sort of missed that phase)
She talked about losing her virginity at 14, sneaking out of the house, drunk parties, bonfires, meeting foreign boys and honestly having a crazy but fun time. She was a bit of a wild child admittedly.
And then we talked about me. I got grounded for things like staying up too late reading. My mom had a conference with all my teachers my freshmen year of high school because I came home with a B- and she thought I must be on drugs. I’ve never smoked. Anything. Or snorted. Or I don’t even know how else people get drugs into them. I’ve never done it. I had my first real sip of alcohol on the last night of freshmen year of college at practically 19 and didn’t really drink again til my junior year when I was nearly 21 anyway. I never snuck out of my house. I wasn’t having sex at fourteen. I wouldn’t even try on clothes in a dressing room unless it had a lock on it because I was that embarrassed of myself. I laughed a lot, I had some weird friends and I wanted so much to be invisible to everyone but those who knew me well. I wasn’t unhappy, looking back I always thought that I was very happy, and I really do think I was. I wrote stories. I sang in plays and choir despite a complete lack of talent and a heaping dose of stage fright.
But I was anything but a wild child.
I remember my senior year, my choir teacher told me he thought I was going to “go nuts” in college. Probably become a druggie, drunk or slut…maybe all three. (I don’t believe he used that last sentence, but it was what he meant.) I didn’t take offense to that. I almost kind of hoped it would happen, that I’d go crazy or something, only for six months or so. Dye my hair purple, blackout once or twice, get a fake ID and accidentally drive to Maine or something. It never happened.
Instead I spent a lot of Friday nights studying, went to a few frat house parties and tried to drink enough to enjoy them but never quite hit that point, joined a sorority and then basically quit this year, spent a semester in Europe, joined student government, had two internships, a bunch of volunteer, got a 3.6 cumulative GPA and founded a club that runs events for my major.
I’ve had people call me boring.
I’ve had a boyfriend tell me that because I didn’t drink I wasn’t fun to be with.
(Although looking back on that nut, he was a diagnosable borderline alcoholic who was depressed without at least three shots)
I’ve gone out and partied.
I’ve kissed foreigners on foreign ground.
I’ve danced on bars and a pole (with friends and for fun…calm down I’m not a stripper. Changing rooms with locks remember)
I’ve failed tests. (But done a heap of extra credit to still pull the A-)
Some of my closest friends are potheads (actually…about 90% of my college friends smoke)
I’m almost done with college and I’m pretty happy about that.
I really do not want to look back on my life and wish I could go back to college.
It beat out high school by a long shot.
I wasn’t invisible and I didn’t want to be invisible.
I’ve met people, most of whom within a year I will have completely lost touch with. I’ve met absolutely the best and worst people of my life at school.
I’ve never truly hated a person before college.
I’ve never truly felt accepted for everything I am by a(n unrelated) person before college.
I came home from England in May and since then I’ve realized that I grew up.
I flew away and came back an adult.
I guess six countries will do that to a person.
It’s sort of killing a lot of my friendships actually, this whole feeling like I know what I’m supposed to do and be.
I realized I don’t want/need a lot of my former friends…as awful as that sounds.
I’ve wanted to make a difference.
I’ve wanted to talk to other “adults” over my own peers.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not bashing people my own age, a bunch of my friends actually seem to feel the same way so we’re moving along together.
I just can’t pretend to like watching another game of beer pong you know?
There are people who come back to my college for homecoming weekend. People who graduated 7 years ago or something and they live for that weekend…they get drunk in the parking lot and go to the old dive bar and pretend they’re not 28…
And I pray to God that I do not become them. Because they freak me out.
When I’m 28 I don’t want to be drunk in my college parking lot while squeezing into college shirts that I really shouldn’t be wearing.
It just grosses me out.
I remember when I was probably 15 thinking that I wasn’t going to live to graduate high school. I didn’t think it would happen. I didn’t think I was going to kill myself. Believe me, I’m thankfully one of the least suicidal people you’ll meet. I just had this feeling that something terrible would happen to me, a freak accident or a tumor or something and I’d die at like 17 and a half.
I read an article a few years later saying kids who thought like that are seriously depressed and want to kill themselves. I think that’s a load of crap. I just didn’t see myself ever getting older so I figured it was because I wouldn’t.
It kind of makes sense if you know my way of thinking. When I lose something important, if for some reason I’m not internally panicking, I know it’s because somewhere in my mind, I know where the object is and it’s safe. It’s like that. I wasn’t panicking about growing up because it was safe not to.
It doesn’t really make sense when I try to explain it does it?
I was never suicidal. I was always very happy actually. Still am. I love my weird little life and all the quirks. I drive my car with my music up, singing til my throat hurts and laughing at how bad I am. I think Adele is depressing so I don’t listen to her. I listen to Jason Mraz and Eric Hutchinson and songs about cowgirls and being free. I skip down streets when people are watching. I’m one of those people.
And I think I’ve grown up enough to realize that it’s a pretty great way to be and realize that the friends I have who really do hate their lives and dread each day because something terrible is obviously going to happen are really sort of stupid. I mean, this is your life, Goddamnit. If you don’t enjoy it, who will? Go skydive or something or hug a small elephant. I don’t know, but go do something great.
Yes, we live in an awful economy. We’re about to graduate into the real world at the most awful time since the 1930s and we’re going to take our shiny degrees and get waitress jobs without benefits and live in closet-sized apartments. We’re going to move back in with our parents and pray our cars don’t run out of gas. We’re going to beg for jobs over monster.com. We’re going to be handcuffed to our technology for the rest of our lives. 90% of us will never receive a love letter like our grandparents did, but instead accept “hey babi, DTF??” getting texted to our phones. Believe me, I’m not naive, I get that this is not exactly the amazing life here.
But I’m happy to be growing up right now. I’m ready to put on my skirt and nice shoes everyday and march off to wherever I’m supposed to go. I’m ok with it. I’m looking forward to having people expect things of me. It’s going to be good.
Never Never Land is for suckers anyway.
I prefer the now.
I am sending out my first graduate school application…tonight
7 months before the deadline
P.S. handing out the last round of reference letter envelopes tomorrow
…I can’t believe I’ve actually managed to get this far
…usually I just procrastinate til it makes more sense to give up
(is it weird that I owe 60% of the credit for my sudden adulthood to Google Calendar?)