Log in

No account? Create an account

back thattaway | next thisaway

So as it turns out... I used to be funny. I used to write witty anecdotes about my life and the boys in it, and people would laugh. Mostly my friends, but even the occasional stranger would say, "hey you, you're funny with the writing and the snark". And I wrote about music. Even though I always thought that what I had to say about it wasn't all that important, that it didn't matter as much as people I knew who had extensive backgrounds in critical writing or libraries full of indie rock albums from which to pull comparisons or suggest influences. Mostly I wrote what I knew... which as it turned out, was mostly what I felt. How a band, or a show, or a song made me feel, and I was comfortable with that. It was something I could speak about with absolute authority, it was something that couldn't be challenged, I was the one and only expert on the subject. But mostly I wrote about the boys, because they were amusing, fascinating even. To watch and see how our interactions would change, to document the fleeting whirl of feelings that I'd touch upon with each one. Which conversations made me laugh, which actions made me roll my eyes... which boys gave me butterflies by just standing near by, and which boys I thought might have promise in a slow-to-boil kind of way.

It was delicious for sure, this diet of live music, late nights & decadent flirtations, but in the end wasn't it just a lot of empty calories? Maybe not entirely empty – I mean I did sustain myself for years on the stuff. But I can't help feeling that it sustained me much in the way that cheap beer & pizza sustain the average college student – which is to say that you can live on the stuff, but 4 years, a drop in your metabolic rate an additional 15 lbs later, you know better than to try to keep it up... or well, assuming you made it through 4 years of higher learning, you should know better. Besides, as amazing as cheap beer & pizza can be (and there are still occasions when you're craving it and nothing else will do) there are so many more nourishing, more delectable meals out there: incredible salads, tender pasta, fresh sushi & sashimi. There are good vodkas that don't leave you hung-over, and fine wines that actually get better (as opposed to skunked) with age. The truth of the matter is that I'm not in college anymore. And I haven't been for quite sometime, so perhaps my tastes should reflect that. I have been slowly changing, moving away from what was into what is. And the truth is I like "what is". I do. I want to eat in fancy restaurants, learn to whip up decadent dishes in my own kitchen, savor the latest and greatest cabernet blends... but I think part of me doesn't believe I deserve it quite yet. Or can't afford it. Or something. Whatever it is, I'm having trouble bridging the gap, making that transition without eschewing what came before. How can I honestly say, "ok, I want to be a grown up now" without a) admitting that my life up until this point has been juvenile or 2) running screaming for safety to the non-committal, low responsibility shores of Neverland?

Hmmn. I seem to have talked myself into circles again. I almost had a point there, and yet it seems to have eluded me again. ::sigh:: ok, lets give this another try:
The problem is this... I'll look back at the past, wax nostalgic and say whatever happened to that girl? The one who was funny and loved music with an unbridled passion, the one who could love and laugh so easily, who could fall with grace, brush herself off & get right back up again ? and I start to bemoan the person I've become. I start to think of myself as jaded & hopeless. But the truth of the matter is that while, yes, I am more guarded now, I wasn't exactly happier then. Not really. I still longed for things I didn't have, for people I'd lost, for the youth I felt even then that I'd squandered... but what I had then, more so than now, was the luxury of time.

When I stumbled, or caught myself procrastinating, it wasn't ever a big deal to me. I brushed it off because I could chalk it up to being young & stupid... but I'm starting to think that window for using that excuse is nearly over. I'm turning 30 in a little less than 90 days. And while that doesn't prevent me from making stupid choices, (and ok, it doesn’t really make me old – especially in today's 30 is the new 20 culture) I feel as I 'm going to really have to start owning up to my decisions – bad or good. In short, I feel as though I'm going to have to start owning up to my life. I need to plot my own direction, and take some sort of action to get there. And that means I have to stop incessantly looking over my shoulder with rose colored glasses and whining about all the fun I was having way back when. The grass was never really greener - it is what it is, even now. And I am still that girl... that funny, glass half full, music loving, vodka drinking, "friend to anyone in crisis" girl. Making myself accountable for my own life doesn't mean changing who I am, it just means paying a little more attention to the decisions I make. ummm, especially BEFORE you make them oh yeah. right. BEFORE I make them.

And boys are still amusing, i don't expect that will change anytime soon. ha. and i really do intend to resume dating, or at least crushing shortly. i just feel like my interests would be better served if i had a little more of my life figured out before i go and throw new boys into the mix. good god, new boys. i'm exhausted just thinking about it.


( 1 spanking — spank your inner moppet )
May. 26th, 2007 08:50 pm (UTC)
But no one ever really grows up...
...a fact of which I had to remind myself while watching my sister graduate from high school, seeing all of my old teachers again and being happy they haven't changed, running through the halls of my school and peering in classrooms, thinking of how much more I appreciate it now than I did then...

That's the good part, the flipside of the years going by. Appreciating things you couldn't have understood before and knowing that it's because you're older and more experienced. I love that and I'm glad I have it (although, as I know you will remind me, at 22 I'm not really one to talk).

Anyway, I felt compelled to comment because I never write in my livejournal anymore but it's good to see that you are! (You should really join facebook like Lawrence because facebook is SOOO the new Myspace...Ok, sort of.) I'm also happy to note that your birthday is actually taking place in a time-period when I am going to be in the city (I always forget exactly what period of summer, whether beginning or end, it is, but I always remember it's warm and outdoors most of the time) and I would definitely like to be present for it!
( 1 spanking — spank your inner moppet )