i just turned 26 a week ago today. if your response to that is “who the fuck cares,” then please stop reading and go electrocute yourself or go kick a puppy so that the world and Oprah hates you.
26 feels like a good number. i felt 100% fine with it until my twin sister said with a sigh “well, we’re in our late 20’s.” BLASPHEMY. but other than that small rain on my magnificent parade, 26 still feels like it holds a crap load of good things for me. regardless of my intuition about this year of living, i can’t help but still feel a bit panicked about the fact that there are people out there, 26 yr old people, who have done a lot more than me, like carrie underwood, or aimee osbourne, the unloved and unaccounted for ozzy osbourne offspring. but it’s ok, because she’s pretty.
for the past couple of years, i’ve let numbers rule my mind. i thought that by the time i was 22, i’d have a successful job at a publishing company. when that didn’t happen, i thought by 25 i’d have at least published some of my writing, or at least have sent more than 1 piece out to more than 1 big name, badass publishing company (turns out, i think i sent it to the wrong address) (no i didn’t). and as i sit on facebook, i look at where the kids i went to school with are in life. some already have babies, one works for ryan seacrest productions, and about 93482394898 of them are engaged.
my boyfriend told me over a year ago that by the last day of 2009, i’d have an engagement ring. and for the last year, every time i saw him, i panicked and dressed for the possible down-on-one-knee moment where i could possibly vomit as i cried. as new years came and went, and no ring was slid onto my finger, i started to get a little upset. aren’t i supposed to be married by 27?! don’t the kids have to be here by 30, because at 35 is when we’re moving to boston so i can get my MFA in creative writing/awesomeoness? as i took a walk around my neighborhood in the frigid air today, wearing yoga pants, an Emerson hoodie, and a bright red vest, feeling very “back-to-the-future”ish, i realized that if i want to discontinue this downward spiral into a depressing abyss of numbers, angst, and severe constipation with a side of broken-out skin, then i have to stop planning my future so much and just go with the flow. what girl wants to know when she’s getting engaged? do you really want to get pissed at the end of every hang out with your boyfriend because he didn’t reach into his pocket and hand you a piece of jewelry that cost him 70 paychecks, his inheritance from grandma, and 17 happy hours missed because of me? what was i thinking? why didn’t i throw wine in his face when he gave me that piece of year-altering information? isn’t most of the fun being surprised when it happens?
i’ve also realized that we can’t dwell on the plans that don’t go the way we wanted them to go. there are decisions i’ve made in the past that i blame for why i have no money or no real success in the present day, but then i realize that i made those decisions for a reason. just because life isn’t where we want it now doesn’t mean it won’t ever be where or what we want it to be. i believe that the battles we fight now make the victories that we win later that much more special. when one door closes, a window opens? something inspirational and cliche like that will help you get through your day.
26 isn’t old. and i’ve decided not to plan so much for my future – none of us should; we should see where every day takes us, and plan here and there accordingly. . if you don’t do that, you may wake-up one day and realize that you’re having a heart attack at the age of 26… and you didn’t plan to die ’til you were 78.
chinless.
It's Whatever 