Big Kid Challenge

Have Michael Jackson's "The Way You Make Me Feel" come on your iPod as you walk down the sidewalk to work.  Try NOT to pretend you're Jodie Sawyer performing in Cooper Neilson's ballet. 

 

It's impossible.  And mildly embarrassing.

[C Ed. Note: Def bringing B some cookies when I come visit Memorial Day weekend....you know....for next time.]

Valentine's Day, Time for a Big Slap of Reality to the Face

B was telling me the other day that she underexaggerated her relationship with her boyfriend when telling her cousin about him a few weeks ago.  This led to him being almost insultingly surprised that "that is still going on."  I find that, when talking to family members, I often OVERexaggerate my relationships with men.  I have several reasons for doing this.  Reasons being:
1. "Sooooooooo......meet any guys out there in New York City???" -My stepmom
     -Translation: "Sooooooo....have you purchased any cats yet?....You know, to sate your unremitting  
       loneliness?"
     -Rebuttal: I AM TWENTY-TWO YEARS OLD, NOT FORTY!
2. "C, are you.....................................................................................weird?" -My mom
     -Translation: "C, are you a big, butch lesbian??"
     -Rebuttal: I love sex.....with men. THE END OF THE STORY.
3. "It's your turn girl!" -My mom
     -Translation: "When you gon' be poppin' out some grand babies?!?!?!"
     -Rebuttal: A. YOU ALREADY HAVE FIVE GRANDCHILLENS' CRAZY! B. I AM TWENTY-
      TWO YEARS OLD, NOT FORTY!

So, when talking to family members, I tend to exaggerate my relationships.  Repeat hook ups (read: F**k Buddy) with a socially retarded, med school bound hottie equals "kinnnnd of seeing this guy...but we're not that serious."  Going on one date and planning a second, which never really happens because he's the flakiest man on earth, equals "Well there's this great British guy who I could see myself dating, we'll see where things go....could get serious."  Because when it comes down to it, they're three thousand or so miles away, they'll believe what I tell them.  Honestly, I don't really think that they're looking for the straight answer, they're really looking for what they want to hear (aren't we all?)....soooooo I justify the exaggeration.

With Valentine's Day looming, it becomes a time where we all really have to come to terms with the little exaggerations we've made in our love lives.  If you're not spending the big night together (barring conscientious objectors), you're not dating, you're not serious, and it's possibly (probably) not going anywhere.  Valentine's Day, while full of garbage and forced romantic exhibitionism, is the great revealer in so many ways.  As for me, I'm pretty glad I'm not spending V Day with any of my recent exaggerations.  I'm not sure I could handle a date that's sole conversational fare is comprised of soccer...and I certainly couldn't handle a V Day dinner with a mate who can't put his phone down for one second and passes out at 11 pm.  These kinds of V Day losers sure make the time in between fun, but they're certainly no one to devote any real energy or special feelings towards.  So thank you St. Valentine, for removing any kind of illusions I would have had about these men and replacing them with illusions of love to come.  For now, I guess I'll just spend Valentine's Day, like I would any other day: watching How I Met Your Mother and being content with myself.

In the vein of illusions of the heart and mind, I would like to present the illusions of Taylor Swift's heart and mind with an in depth comparison of an element of her artistry.
Back to December: An Analysis of the Elements......

Drum Roll Please....C

Whereeee to begin? B and I have been friends since the early days of college.  We met because B was more than terrified at the prospect of leaving Minnesota and starting a new life in the crazy, exciting (sarcasm) east coast city where our small liberal arts college was located.  I, of course, talked her down and told her that she could do this! and the world was her oyster! and she's stronger than she knows!...along with some other probably equally cliched pep talk phrases.  I find this beginning to our friendship somewhat odd in retrospect, because it was B who ventured into the dangerous waters of adulthood first, and she who took a giant leap in moving to a brand new (big) city.

I was utterly devastated at graduation.  Our college was my oyster, my universe; I was a somebody there, somebody people knew.  I remember thinking (naively) that I would simply get a job before/ at/ directly after graduation and simply move to New York City!  Little did I know, this is not such a simple plan.  Moving to new cities (without the protection of a college structure) takes time, money, planning, support, etc.  I barely had any money at graduation, and really no concrete plan.  Things had always just fallen into place for me, as things do for many people before the shock of post-grad life hits.  Graduating was literally like being born again.  I felt so disoriented.  I had no purpose.  I have never in my life felt so lost.  I literally lied in my bed in Colorado moping for almost an entire month.

Anyways, long story short, after a few months of working myself to the bone at a restaurant for measly pay, a fruitless visit to NYC, a case of mono AND strep throat AND (almost) skin cancer, selling all of my belongings, and packing up TWO suitcases....BAM I was taking a huge leap of faith and living with a friend in Connecticut.  After a very tumultuous two weeks, where I was sure nothing was going to work out and I was going to return to Colorado having spend almost none of my money, I got a job and an apartment...almost in the same day.  So here I am, living the big city life.  I honestly feel like a make a wish child....I DID have skin cancer.  Maybe God listens to prayers after all.  All I know is that being an adult is scary, scarier and more stressful than anything I dealt with in college (or before that for that matter).  Oh, and it's also ridiculously expensive.  So, for now, I'm going to go sit wide-eyed and hungry amongst my eleven hundred dollar bedroom furniture.