Category Archives: Grownup stuff

Just what I needed. Just when I needed it.

“What is more (and I can hardly find words to tell you how important I think this), it is just the people who are ready to submit to the loss of the thrill and settle down to the sober interest, who are then most likely to meet new thrills in some quite different direction. The man who has learned to fly and become a good pilot will suddenly discover music; the man who has settled down to live in the beauty spot will discover gardening.

This is, I think, one little part of what Christ meant by saying that a thing will not really live unless it first dies. It is simply no good trying to keep any thrill: that is the very worst thing you can do. Let the thrill go — let it die away — go on through that period of death into the quieter interest and happiness that follow — and you will find you are living in a world of new thrills all the time. But if you decide to make thrills your regular diet and try to prolong them artificially, they will all get weaker and weaker, and fewer and fewer, and you will be a bored, disillusioned old man for the rest of your life. It is because so few people understand this that you find many middle-aged men and women maundering about their lost youth, at the very age when new horizons ought to be appearing and new doors opening all round them. It is much better fun to learn to swim than to go on endlessly (and hopelessly) trying to get back the feeling you had when you first went paddling as a small boy.”

- C.S. Lewis, from Mere Christianity

A University of Chicago survey found that most Americans believe adulthood begins at age 26.

SEE. Told you. For the next 4.5 months, this is my excuse.

Just call me Dr. Sexy

Ever since I graduated college four years ago (holy crapoly!), I’ve noticed that while I’ve long shoved my textbooks into storage (except for “Conception To Birth” — there are some quality diagrams in there, I tell ya), almost all of my friends have continued their studies. This has become even more apparent now that everyone is starting to graduate. Jess is now a dentist. Randall is now a doctor. Fred is now a lawyer (almost). Alice is working on her second master’s (why the heck do you need two?). And the list goes on and on and on.

I am very proud of my friends. Don’t get me wrong. They’ve made many sacrifices for their education and I wish them enormous success (and I hope to be able to count on them for a ‘buddy rate’ on medical/legal/other advice in the future). But around this time, I can’t help but feel a teensy bit inadequate with my unremarkable bachelor’s degree in political science, a major I don’t even like saying aloud in fear that people will ask my views on political affairs (“Ummm, make love not war?”) Yes, I know that in my profession, a graduate degree is not necessary and that in the past four years, I’ve gained more real world experience than $120K could ever buy, but I sort of wonder what my social circle will look like five or ten years down the road. Will these friends, who’ll eventually start convening over expensive wine and bruschetta to discuss managed healthcare and occupational pensions, still want to hang out with poor little Michelle B.A.?

I surely hope so.

Where are your Dr. Scholl’s sneakers and fanny pack?

More signs that you are a grownup: When you spend Memorial Day Weekend not at a drunken apartment balcony barbeque but at SeaWorld, holding onto a pen and methodologically checking off the must-see attractions on your map. And instead of throwing on a plastic trashbag and racing to Shamu’s Splash Zone, you and your friends sit in the back, bemoaning the small size of the tank and discussing rumors about how the whale catchers kill the whales’ mothers before forcing the babies into captivity. And then, in a sudden fear of tooth decay, one friend decides to pour a drink into the bag of cotton candy you’ve been munching on (OK, he’s a dentist). And then later that night, when another friend forgets to bring her ID, you explain the situation to the bouncer and he replies, “Well, if you guys looked young, this would be a problem.” (WTF?) And then, with every last drop of energy inside us, you push yourself to stay up until 1 a.m. and feel a strange sense of accomplishment when you succeed.

WHAT THE HECK HAS HAPPENED TO YOU?

Still, if you’ve gotta grow old, you’re so glad to do so with the people you love. Pass the Bengay.

Old Soul

I just heard screams coming from downstairls. Sigh. I guess Apolo just won Dancing With The Stars. My life at home runs on a carefully-caculated TiVo schedule. (By the way, did you vote for Jordin? Did you? Did you? Did you?!?!) I look at my parents with their Dream Dinners and TV trays, testing out rash creams and counting down the days until retirement, and I’m startled to see my future. Who would have thought I’d get here so soon?

I am getting old. I try to kid myself by watching Reese Witherspoon movie marathons and painting my toenails hot pink, but the fact of the matter is, THIS IS THE END. I look in the mirror and my eyelids are all droopy. I almost died tonight in Turbo Kickboxing. My cellphone doesn’t even flip.

Last Saturday, a group of us went to eat dinner at Musha. Afterwards, we couldn’t think of anything to do, so we stood in the parking lot talking. My 22-year-old sister who joined us that evening had long left us for a party in Hollywood. We were jealous. I declared to my friends, “We have to stay out until at least 11 tonight!” I looked at my phone, which read 10:24. I shrugged and said, “We have to stay out until at least 10:30!” They chuckled and we all parted ways at 10:28.

Where did my 20s go? I guess I’d have to partly blame the disappearance on employment. But, ya know, I’m not really complaining. This is more like, well, a passionate observation. I like my life. I feel like things are really falling into place. I just wish they wouldn’t bolt down so freakin’ fast.

Free services. Act now.

Me: I need some ‘me time.’

Matt: It’s always ‘you time.’

Hmm. I suppose that may be true. To help change that, I was thinking about pushing myself into some volunteer work, but don’t really know where to start. Last year, I was a Running Buddy for Girls On The Run, a program that helps girls build confidence through running. That experience is one I won’t likely forget.

I told the organizers that I wasn’t all that athletic and was sort of afraid that my preteen counterpart would start yelling, “Hurry up! I have homework to finish!” as I trailed behind in exhaustion. So on the day of the 5K, they paired me with this chick who came dressed in jeans, a ski jacket, a scarf and clunky Sketchers. In her pocket was a king-sized Twix. I had a feeling this was going to be a long morning.

“Um, are you going to eat that while you’re running? It’s not very good for you.”

No answer.

“Oh. That’s cool.”

The race began and we were straggling way behind the others. The girl would run about 50 feet and then stop.

“My stomach hurts,” she would say.

“Well, we can stop if you want, but I think you can do this,” I said, only half-believing my own words. “You’re a great runner.”

She decided to stick it out. From that point on, I would have her point to some landmark — a tree, a trashcan, anything — and we would have to run to it without stopping. Then we would walk for 15 seconds or so and then she would have to choose another one. Miraculously, it worked. I used this method until we saw the finish line, where a giant crowd stood cheering us on.

After we received our medals, her two coaches started jumping up and down and hugging her. For the first time, I saw her smile.

“How did you do it?” they asked me. “We’ve been struggling all semester with her. We didn’t think she would ever run.”

By that point, the little girl had scurried off to her family and I lost her in the frenzy. But I felt good knowing that perhaps I made a small impact in a chubby girl’s life.

So, if any of you know of volunteer opportunities in the South Bay, please pass them along. I’m good with kids and teens, not good with manual labor (although I’m willing to try it) and would take an extra special interest in anything that involves a free T-shirt. Let’s save the world!

In lieu of a Post-it

Things to do: Go to gym, buy cuter clothes, donate $ to American Idol, visit friends, get a better personality, clean room, cut hair, remove chipped nail polish, pluck, think of ways to become famous, think of ways to make money, plan next vacation, buy birthday presents, be less jealous, eat less crap, breathe through nose, floss, be more independent/responsible, write better blog entries

This is no fun, staring at the wall

The past couple of days, I’ve been feeling a little bit bored. I don’t know what it is. Everything just seems sort of dull. The Internet, my conversations, even American Idol (Simon is getting nice; Paula is sobering up – WHY?!). I think it’s about time, once again, to start expandeeng zee brain. I’m going to watch The Namesake tomorrow. I guess that’s a good start. (I totally get a gold star for reading the book before seeing the movie.) But I need to do more. Has anyone read/viewed anything good lately that doesn’t include the inside scoop on Brit Brit’s rehab romance or mention the word ‘Sanjaya’? Do tell.