Tag Archives: birthday

#latebloomer

I guess it’s fitting to write a post about my birthday that is late and have the word ‘late’ in the title, but I promise it was wholly unintentional. For the past week I’ve been trying to write my annual birthday blog post, but you guys, my heart is so full of love and gushy and wonderfulness that everything I write is crap. I know, wah, what a terrible problem to have. Last year I wrote this blog post about turning 27 and somehow it transformed into my magical spirit animal (other than Tilikum, the serial killer whale, who will forever be my actual spirit animal) and led me through the best, most action-packed year of my life.

I’ve been trying to write about that, and about letting go of anxiety and just living and how all of the things will happen to you when you do that (including bed bugs, so get ready) but the thing is that you guys already know all that stuff that happened to me – ebook, going back to school, fighting the bed bugs and winning in a triumphant blaze of glory, so like… why should I tell you again?

But then yesterday, I was standing in my apartment, failing at whatever it was that I was trying to do (probably make coffee using paper towels as a filter because that happened) and I heard the voice of either a school counselor or someone I made up in my head say to me a phrase I haven’t heard in a while –

You’re a late bloomer. That’s all.

Remember when that was adults’ answer to everything? What, you haven’t gotten your boobs? You’re physically a late bloomer! What, you haven’t slow danced with a boy and you’re in college? You’re just a late bloomer! No worries! It’ll be adorable to tell stories about later!

Thing is – I was legit a late bloomer and I was SO aware and upset about it as a teen. I wish I could scour my old Yahoo! account and find the email I wrote to my friend Jessica in 8th grade about how everyone else had gotten their first kiss and how the tipping point for me was watching this episode of Charlie Brown where even Charlie Brown got his first kiss and what grade was he even in anyway? But all of that would involve me logging into Yahoo! and ew.

So eventually, as late bloomers do, I blossomed or wtfever. Or started doing all the things normal teens/20-somethings do and the worries about late blooming faded away for some years. It wasn’t until this year, when I found myself doing some of the grown up things I was supposed to start doing upon college graduation and for the first time they happened naturally, instead of throwing myself into some weird multiple personality thing where I feel like I’m my mom but also my own child and I’m trying to convince myself to pay bills but my child self is like “whatever I’m just gonna lock myself in the bathroom and pick at my face” and my adult self is like FINE THEN YOU CAN’T GO TO THE PARTY LATER AND ALSO THAT LEAVES SCARS YOU IDIOT.

A few weeks ago I realized that I’d not only Spring cleaning-ed, but also Summer and Fall cleaning-ed (that’s the official conjugation y’all, I swear) and it felt really nice and not at all like someone was removing my kidneys to sell on the black market, which is how cleaning usually feels. There are other things too, but I don’t want to sound braggy about actually paying that doctor’s bill from three years ago so I will stop. Point is – I’m pretty sure the things I’m experiencing are about 4 years delayed, and it’s got me kinda concerned.

I don’t think people talk about late bloomers after high school because no one wants to be like, “hey, you aren’t going to want to have babies until you’re too old to have babies and that is probably going to suck” or “you’re not going to get your shit together financially until you’re 39 and, honestly, you should have been putting all that money you spent on booze and sandwiches in an IRA like 10 years ago. Seriously, you’re gluten intolerant. Stop with the sandwiches.”

I think I’d feel better if I knew that one upstanding citizen was also a late bloomer, but the closest I’ve gotten is all those BuzzFeed articles that are like “Ten Famous Actors Who Didn’t Get Famous Until Their 40s” and like yes, it does make me feel better that Jon Hamm had a rough start but I’m pretty sure that’s not the outcome I’m headed towards. So because it was my birthday last week and also because I’m procrastinating schoolwork, I’ve made up some things that could TOTALLY be true about some famous people we all look up to.

cooltext1311743296

look guys, I learned how to use .gifs! UPDATE – apparently I did not learn how to use gifs. It works in my editor I promise.

Ok here goes –

Hillary Rodham Clinton, Former First Lady, Secretary of State, Bill Clinton’s Handler and probs gonna be President. Also star of TextsfromHillary.tumblr.com, the biggest of all wins. Imaginary late bloomer.

Hillary avoided routine gynecological visits and her annual physical until 33.

George Washington. Father of our nation and professional hair model. Imaginary late bloomer.

George refused to make his bed because that’s where his laptop lived too and it didn’t seem to mind, for god’s sake.

Jane Austen. Wrote stuff. Imaginary late bloomer.

Jane changed her major at least 6 times. She finally decided to do “that writing thing her dad wouldn’t shut about” so she could take a victory lap as a super senior.

George Soros. Finance guy bf talks about. Imaginary late bloomer.

George spend his mid-20s working as a Starbucks Barista. His band hated on him for selling out.

Jackie O. Rich person and style icon. Imaginary late bloomer.

Every time Jackie would get a phone call from an unknown number, her friends would be like “yo Jackie, you gonna get that?” and she’d roll her eyes and be like, “whatevs, it’s just TimeWarner telling me they’re gonna shut off my internet again if I don’t pay my bill.”

Katsuaki Watanabe. President, Toyota. Very good at looking serious. Imaginary late bloomer.

Katsuaki never outgrew the desire to play Edward 40 Hands.

Joan of Arc. Milla Jovovich played her in some movie I watched at Catholic school once. Imaginary late bloomer.

Joan’s roommates often complained that she never contributed to the house toilet paper and cleaning supplies fund.

________________________

Don’t you feel marginally better? I do and that’s all that matters because this was supposed to be my birthday blog post so I am extending birthday rights to today.

Peace, love and I’m considering changing my age to 24 because then I’ll be normal, 

BWCE

P.S. –

Miley Cyrus. Paid lots to stick out tongue. Early bloomer.

Blooming is overrated anyway.

Tagged , , , , , ,

Things I accomplished at 26

When I turned 26, I realized that I was entering the no man’s land that would become the rest of my twenties. Ok to be honest, at the exact moment I turned 26 I was standing on the second level of an Atlanta club, feeling very confused about how much it looked like Libation while repeatedly saying, “This club is in a strip mall?” So maybe I didn’t realize it that second, but sometime over the next week the feeling sunk in that 26 is one of those throw away years.

College was so long ago that when I pass college campuses I find myself lamenting my lost youth (it’s too soon, I know) and thinking about ‘kids these days’ and how good they have it with their tablets and that cruise ship version of study abroad.  True adult life feels ever-so-slightly out of my reach too… It’s not like I’m saving money or going on vacations that don’t involve my parents buying my plane tickets and I’m certainly not getting married and popping out babies anytime soon. It feels like if Life and I could sit down and have a conversation, it would involve Life not letting me get in a word edgewise because it’s too busy yelling, “Hey, you! Welcome to your late twenties. You can rent a car, drink, and see R-rated movies just like when you were 25. Do you know what you have to look forward to? Oh you do? Stuff like a family, marriage, a paycheck that covers more than your rent and 1/25th of your metrocard… Yeah that’s coming your way, but guess what, mo’fucka? You’re not getting shit until you are AT LEAST 30 years old. You gotta have a couple wrinkles before you get that. Enjoy the soul-crushing levels of anxiety you’re about to experience even though this is the least responsibility you’re going to have for the rest of your life.”

In the past year I’ve felt more anxious, confused and filled with self-doubt than ever before. It’s really for no reason that I can pin down, and rationally speaking it’s pretty idiotic because everything is going ok. I try to quell the fear that my world is about to come crashing down at any second. I’ve taken up Yoga (both Bikram and the one that involves me falling a lot), I keep track of my dreams and use google to analyze what they’re telling me, and I even find myself repeating my own mantras like, “This is not your reality,” and, “Be the person you look up to.” 21-year-old me would hate me right now.

I sometimes wonder if it has to do with the fact that when I was a little kid, I had one vision for my life: I wanted to be 26, to have a job as a journalist in a big city, and to live in a tiny, kitschy apartment by myself with a bunch of guinea pigs. So, in counting the things I wanted as a six-year-old, as long as we cut out ‘journalist,’ ‘kitschy,’ and ‘alone,’ I’ve actually achieved my one life goal. Mission accomplished… What the fuck is next?

Today I turn 27, and it’s sort of like I’ve reached the first day of the rest of my life.

In the spirit of embracing, enjoying and not hating myself for every second of my late twenties, I’ve created a list of things I accomplished at 26 in almost chronological order. 27, if you can be half as a good (and involve fewer hangovers) as 26, I will be proud of you:

At 26… I:

  • Attempted to order one of everything on the Waffle House menu. I don’t how far I got down the menu before I was stopped, but I know I was given biscuits.
  • Migrated this blog to a WordPress and started blogging a lot more. Yay blog!
  • Learned that dreams about pissing yourself are a symbol for feelings of inadequacy. They can also mean you have to pee.
  • Santacon. That happened.
  • Ate Christmas dinner with hickeys on my neck. I THINK I managed to hide them from my family members (at least until they read this). Who gives someone a hickey after high school?
  • Finally stopped taking cabs everywhere. My bank account has not benefited. At all. WTF?
  • Did not cry while listening to Ke$ha… It’s harder than it sounds.
  • Was vegan for at least 4 days. #spicyspecialfail
  • Ate only meat for at least 3 days. #calzonefail
  • Went to the emergency room and the only retain blurry memories of being discharged by a very sweet and flamboyantly gay male nurse.
  • Went on a date with someone off craiglist and DIDN’T GET MURDERED.
  • Quit my first real job.
  • Learned that dreams about the apocalypse symbolize fear over a huge change in your life.
  • Went to a “spiritual-themed” Mexican wedding in Mexico City, added to my list of awesome weddings attended.
  • Experienced my second summer in NYC, actually did things people do in NYC during the summer. New York in the summer is fun!
  • Got better at expressing my emotions.
  • Expressed wayyyy too many of my emotions – my boyfriend has several videos of my drunk crying that I should probably post on FB.
  • Got doored by a cab, joined the ranks of hipster bikers everywhere.
  • Learned that dreams about being barefoot in a public place mean you need to take life less seriously.
  • Went to my first bachelorette party.
  • Threw up in three airports AND one airplane bathroom on my way back from my first bachelorette party.
  • Survived Hurricane Sandy!

And then of course there’s all the mushy stuff – boyfriend, friends, family, love, growth, memories, the meaning of life, blablabla. All that stuff is the best.

Happy birthday to me, Happy Holidays to all. Thank you so much for reading and participating in my life and giving me a few less reasons to be anxious along the way.

Peace, love and hopefully someone will gift me some xanax soon,

BWCE

Tagged , , , ,
%d bloggers like this: