small.town.girl

Sometimes I feel like my world is standing still while my friends’ worlds are whizzing by at record paces. People around me are getting married, getting jobs, having kids, moving to foreign countries–they’re having life experiences and I’m… not.

Other times, it feels like my life is rushed and filled to the point of bursting. I feel like I’m barely clinging on to my sanity. I see people living happy, carefree lives and I envy them.

Perhaps the real situation is that everyone is somewhere between these two places. No one is completely carefree. We all have bills and deadlines to meet. Marriage, children, jobs, houses–they just compound the stress of life itself. In some ways I’m lucky that I do not have those things to worry about. My employment situation is glorified hobo and the white picket fence is a long way off. I won’t have to worry about a mortgage or diapers or contracts for a couple of years. Still, I have to keep telling myself that I’m working toward something or the day to day breathing becomes too much.

My dear friend and “little brother” wrote on my Facebook today that I have to be passionate about teaching. I think I am, but am I passionate enough? I really look forward to working with a classroom of my own, but I’m nervous. I’m more nervous about completing the process and jumping through the hoops of student teaching and Praxis testing, but it’s still just another stressful element in this path I have chosen for myself. And I’m always questioning if it’s the right path. I’ve had a good break from subbing due to PSSA testing and conflicting schedules, and I can honestly say that I don’t miss it all that much. I’ve already entered the mindset for my summer job, which might just be a necessary coping mechanism.

I wonder if I’ve missed my calling. I wonder if this is what I’m supposed to do. Friends–well, more likely friends of friends–would turn to religion here and pray for answers or something. I could consult my tarot cards. I could put my faith in what my friends tell me. I could believe in myself for once.

I’ve kind of hit a wall. I guess that’s what April is, and possibly always has been, for me. I think I was usually fairly frustrated by this time of year in undergrad, and most certainly in 2008 and 2009, I was slowly going crazy by this time of year. I want to be passionate about my classes, about subbing, about life–but right now I just keep asking myself two questions:

Is this real life? and

Can we go to the beach yet?

I need this.

What is in the water? Everyone I know is married or getting married. Some people I’ve known since childhood are already divorced. There are babies everywhere. Why? And when I ponder these questions, why am I always lead to the “Is this real life?” spiral of career-related questions? Why does the happiness of others make me want to throw things?

I’m not going to lie; sometimes, seeing all these happy couples pushing strollers and planning parties makes me feel like a failure. A ton of my boyfriend’s friends are getting hitched within the next 18 months, and half my high school acquaintances have different last names on Facebook these days. I always thought that I would be like my Mom; she was married in her early 20s and had me when she was 26. Well, I turn 26 this year, and I have no plans to have a baby any time soon. I also thought I’d have a career and–at the very least–an apartment by now.

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I want to address the fact that this weekend will be my 25th birthday. I’ve been over analyzing it and trying to come to grips with the fact that I’ve been on Earth for a quarter of a century. But the life I live feels like an extended adolescence, and life is nothing like I thought it would be at 25. I feel slightly relieved, but I also feel like somewhat of a failure. I thought that I would have a stable, steady career; I thought that I would be married, possibly discussing the idea of children. Instead, I’m finally deciding to go back to school to get certified for education while substitute teaching. I’m barely able to comprehend that I’m in a relationship, let alone think about the m-word or miniature humans. Even though I’m not necessarily ready for these big life changes, I thought that by 25, I’d at least feel like an adult.

Perhaps the economy’s forced extended adolescence has my growth as a person stunted. It’s not that I don’t want to live on my own, to be able to have my own dinner parties or to own my own living room furniture. I do want these things; I just can’t figure out how to get form point A to B quickly enough, and I’m disappointed that it’s taken me this long to get anywhere close to establishing myself. But even some of my friends who have taken adult steps like getting married or establishing careers seem to live in a vacuum where age is nonexistent.

I’m hoping that my birthday weekend gives me some clarity on this. I wish I could offer further laments, but I can’t find the words to express what I’m feeling. In a way, I guess I am older; Dan and I are going to a bed and breakfast on the Eastern Shore for the weekend. There’s been talk of bird watching. We want to relax rather than attend parties at my alma mater. We’d rather have glasses of wine or a craft brewed beer than all-you-can drink Beast Light. I just hope that this experience–an adult vacation–makes me feel more grown up or offers me some time to reflect and figure out how to get to a point where I feel like an adult. I’m sick of feeling trapped in limbo. I’d like 25 to mean something.

It’s Winter Break.  The problem here is that I’m no longer in college, so I should no longer be celebrating with bar trips and catching up with old friends.  I’m doing just that, though, out of a desperate desire to become a more social creature after an approximate year of hibernation.  Nevermind that I’m incredibly depressed that I will be having drinks with a friend who has relocated to NYC and will only be reminded that I am stuck here.  I do want to chat with her, but I also want to lock her in a closet and assume her life in the city.  She’s thin and half Chinese, though, so I’m guessing that wouldn’t work too well.

The real inspiration for this post is not to talk about impending hang-outs, but one that has already taken place.  A little background for you?  From sixth grade through high school I adored this boy (we shall call him R).  I never dated R, and with the exception of one drunken make out session, nothing productive came out of my nearly-a-decade-long crush.  He graduated high school with me in 2003 and bounced around to several colleges before he found one that “stuck.”  He’s slated to graduate in 2010.  We haven’t been tight since we went to Bonnaroo–a group trip where I was Susie Sober and spoiled everyone’s fun by being slightly annoyed at the rampant drug use among the 80,000 people who were not nearly as dedicated to Radiohead as me.  So anyway, R is home from Utah State right now, and I wanted to “catch up.”

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