My friend Auriel (who none of you know unless you've met him, or are reading this on Facebook and happen to have run across his page) sent me a link to his blog today, as an example of what he was like in his 20s (as he's been writing in it for the better part of a decade). In return, I sent him a link to my Livejournal; as is the norm for me when coming across my old writings after an extended period away, I narcissistically have to go back and read them.
What surprised me was noticing that my last post was from exactly a year ago. In fact, in 11 minutes it'll have been EXACTLY a year ago. It's a ridiculous thing to be excited about, but since when has that ever stopped me? I live for getting excited over ridiculous little things.
So yeah, posting a little update just to commemorate the occasion.
I'm starting to think I need to start up a new journal. There's been a lot on my mind, of late, and I'm realizing that there's quite a bit I'd like to be able to get out in text...but don't necessarily want to share with the whole world. Or perhaps, I'm only interested in sharing these thoughts with complete strangers. It's somewhat of a departure from my normal "Hey, everybody! Be privy to my every random thought and whim!" mode, but I suppose we all develop a sense of necessary intellectual privacy as we age.
God, I'm 32. *shakes head* I don't feel 32. Hell, what's it supposed to feel like? All I know is that when I was a kid, my parents were in their 30s. They started early enough for my mom to have only turned 40 the year I graduated from high school, which is great for them, I suppose. (They have more than half their lives to live free of the obligations of child-rearing.) But to think that when my mom was my age, she had a 10-year-old and a 12-year-old, was living on a farm, owned horses, and had recently started a new career as a lab tech...well, that's not me at the same age. Sure, I've been married and divorced twice (*snickers* I don't know why that amuses me, but it does), but I have no kids, I'm still renting my apartment (with my boyfriend), and my career choice is: Cook. I don't really feel particularly grown-up, you know? Perhaps that's a trait that's not uncommon to my generation, but it still strikes me as odd.
I've been noticing lately that people my age seem to be falling rather neatly into two diverse groups: 1. Those who, like me, are still "finding themselves" and living the sort of life most would equate with people in their 20's, and 2. Those who've gotten married and are working on families, concentrating on buying/paying off homes, and attempting to follow This Are Serious Careers.
Not saying there's anything at all wrong with option 2, but it's definitely not my style. I like stability, oh indeed I do, but I don't feel it has to come with 18-20 years of extra responsibilities and stress attached. For some people, having and raising children is the ultimate expression of their love and their desire to contribute to the world. For me, the ultimate expression of my love and desire to contribute to the world is to be the very best friend, cook, girlfriend, and person I can be. I know, that theme has come up rather often in my (ha ha) recent posts, but my opinion hasn't changed at all in the last year. If anything, it's solidified into a bona-fide core belief.
Considering all the good it's brought me, I can't say it's been anything other than the right decision for me.
Anyway...right. Gonna go read an old blog now.