The other day, I was at my friend's sister's dinner party -- she was throwing her husband a surprise birthday party -- and I felt terribly immature. I mean, this girl had her LIFE together.
In high school, I kept a notebook full of quotes. Seriously. It's in my closet at my parents' house now, completely chock-full of the cheesiest quotes I could get my over-hormonal 16-year-old hands on. Need an example of one? Luckily, I live at home and have easy access to the notebook. Allow me to share some of the highlights...
I have a confession to make. (I really end up making a lot of those on here, don't I?) I've been in a lot of relationships. Those of every kind. Relationships that end dramatically. Relationships where he was too obsessed. Relationships where I was too obsessed. Relationships that were bittersweet and suddenly went horribly sour. But I don't think I've ever been in love.
I remember the days when my nose was pressed against the screen in English class, trying to hide the fact that I was scrolling through Perez Hilton. I was obsessed with checking Perez regularly. How many pee-pees was he going to draw on Jennifer Love-Hewitt's face today?!? Now that I'm older and, ahem, more mature, I've found some grown-up blogs that are just as addictive!!
It's only human to have those moments (no matter how long they last) when you feel like you can't do ANYTHING right. Ok, my moment has been going on for over a week. I feel like I've been spending too much money, apologizing way too many times to people, not returning things I've borrowed, slipping from my usual tip-top form at work...and it's all so exhausting. With all these mistakes, I'm feeling super guilty.
Before I begin, this post is dedicated to all of the wonderful ladies (and men, if you're reading) out there that feel a little stuck and lost in a life post-college. The world often feels bustling with too many confident individuals and not enough nervous, actual human beings just trying to find their place -- both in the universe and in the Starbucks line each morning before work. I want you to read this post aloud with your hand on your heart and your chin lifted high.
I have discovered the answer to ALL post grad problems. The post grad problems I'm talking about consist of: stress, finding jobs that make you happy, dating mature human beings, partying, being adventurous, finding yourself...you get the point. So, how are we supposed to conquer all of these grown up issues at such a young age? Be obsessed with yourself.
The other day, I walked into Home Depot with a mission. A mission to find a soft, neutral color that would match the awkward black trim of...my parents' basement.That's right. One month ago, I moved back home. And now, I'm sitting here with my dear mother at our kitchen counter in full on PJ-wear at noon, playing Words with Friends, browsing Pinterest and drinking coffee (because she's my new roommate).
Then we had one of those moments over the phone where if we were in person we'd be jumping up and down hugging each other and falling on the floor in a tangled excited mess. This was happening. My first girlfriend was getting married to a person she truly loved and my lady mind couldn't wrap my thoughts around it.
If I were to ever win a gold medal in the Olympics, it would be for over-thinking EVERYTHING. I guess I fit the typical girl stereotype. It's totally like me to stand in the cosmetics aisle in Target for 80 hours trying to figure out which type of mascara I want. I'll over-think a text I'm about to send to someone I'm dating. I'll over-analyze a conversation I had with a friend and turn it into something it probably wasn't in the first place.
I need a focus adjustment. Let's just say I've been a little on the negative side lately. At first, I tried blaming it on the crappy weather (like I usually do) and then I realized I could be dealing with a personal problem. For example, whenever I'm about to do virtually anything, I immediately envision the worst possible outcome.
I want to relive the small moments. I want to relive the teeny side glances, the sweet kiss goodbye, the surprise compliment I received, the heartfelt compliment I gave. And then I'm left feeling at a loss -- feeling like, though I did experience all those things, I also didn't.
I've said it before 48,573 times and I will say it again. Life after college is a hectic whirlwind. And most of your time is spent trying to decipher if you're happy with who you are, what you're doing and where you're doing it all. Is this what I'm supposed to be doing? Does this make me happy? He loves me, he loves me not. Blah, blah, blah, blah. But what happens after that hump?
Lately, I've been noticing something about these happy hours. I jump on them with all of my friends. New friends, old friends, friends from college, friends from high school, friends from work...and I realized something. My friend groups are slowly growing apart.
In college, I got into a nasty habit with my sweatpants. Our relationship took a very public turn. Yep, my sweatpants relationship was all about the PDA and I went everywhere with them on. Grocery store, library, Target, the mall...we were attached at the hip (pun intended).
Fine, I'll admit it. I got the idea from a recent Cosmopolitan article, sue me. But also, please nod in approval for me finding the only semi-classy article in Cosmo. The article inspired my heart strings. French women live fabulously, non-apologetically, mysteriously, seductively....I couldn't pull my eyes away from it and obvi I have to share it with you.
In one week, I spent half a day in Jamaica (bought Roasted Ground coffee and coconut rum candies), I explored nearly every edge of New York City (found a killer pizza parlor, took mock pictures at Tiffany's and ate cookies from Bouchon Bakery) and I sunbathed next to a clear pool in Florida while sending Twit-Pics of the palm tree-clad view.
College was a large Biodome for easy mistakes, debauchery, learning and living. And now that I've been out of college for a while, a few things have become irresistibly harder to accomplish without this grand ol' biodome of easy living. I've dealt with the following combo platter of difficulties in the real world, and in every situation I contemplated ripping my hair out.
Before I get into the slipper business, I want to share my feelings with you. Since I'm a girl, I tend to have a big barrel of sparkly emotions in my closet. For a while I've been feeling...lost. That sounded super sad and lame in my head, but I can't think of any other way to explain it.
Me and a few girlfriends put on our highest heels and tightest jeans, teased out our hair, chugged a glass of wine and strut our stuff downtown. For the first time, I felt a hint of cougar status brew in my insides. I was only a year older than most of the people in the bar...aside from the 18-year-old freshman busting in with fake IDs. But we all promised ourselves that this was only an experiment -- to hands-on discover how much we'd grown up in the past year. Right?
My roommate and I can relate, we’ve both been single for a while, we both like to go out and have fun and we both like to dish about it. Naturally, our conversation led to something a little sacred in the dating world. Sexay time.
I can't believe I'm being this depressing on hump day! But, I'm being serious and honest. Even if you get a entry level job out of college, money is low, low, low, low (and you won't be buying boots wit dah fur, if you catch my drift).
The first indication that I am my mother happened when I was a freshman in college. I bought a bottle of instant Lysol wipes and casually cleaned by little dorm room every Sunday (my mom never goes a day without creating vacuum streaks on our family room carpet). The second indication was that I secretly began to think people weren't sincere if they weren't on time (my mom doesn't rely on people who are consistently late -- she's always told me it's a terrible shot to their character).
My failure to hang out with my girlfriends is an innocent mistake, but when me and my five college ladies planned a weekend (annual) getaway last weekend, I couldn't help but get that little tingle of excitement in my veins to spend some time with people that make me feel fresh and fabulous. It's real people; you can push time away from your clusterf*ck of a schedule, for your friends.
I've been so busy talking about how stressful and crazy my life has become since graduating from college all of this time, I haven't even stopped to think about the serene course my life has taken as well.
To me, saying I'm insecure sounds a little harsh. It sounds a little wobbly and flaky. It sounds dishonest and awkward. Sometimes, it seems like I'm a little too big for it, kind of like Alice in Wonderland after she ate that piece of crack bread and grew her arms out of a cottage. But I'm willing to believe actually admitting an insecurity of any sort is the first step to fixing it.
In my last post, I had some really great feedback from CollegeCandy readers and I wanted to touch on a great question that was asked: Having a happy life is important, but what if you don't know what it is that will make you happy? What if you can't pinpoint it? How do you figure it out?
My lovely and selfish decision to do something that makes me happy has been...drum roll...SUCH a relief. I was so afraid before I jumped the gun on getting my life moving the way I wanted to. But being afraid isn't going to rob your happiness once it's over. It's going to water it. Water it like a bed of flowers. And you will bloom.
I have the mentality of an 11-year-old. But I digress. A week ago--I quit my dream job at an advertising agency and now I'm a flight attendant. I have the mentality of a 55-year-old lady hitting a mid-life crisis without the Porsche.
I've noticed a huge shift in my conversations lately. They're like, slightly grown up. Flash Notice: I still talk about sex, flatulence, snot and totally gross 5-year-old boy things - just bare with me while I try to sound cool and old. Here are the top five new things I'm chatting about these days (that I'm not quite used to yet)...
Growing up is all about losing that selfish factor. Especially in a new job environment, - I want to make sure everything I'm doing is coherent with everyone else's time and tasks. Even with friendships, I want to always keep others in mind. I want to make others happy and let them trust me for things. I am keenly aware of what others are thinking, based upon my adult actions.
I'm currently sitting on my couch in my apartment with my best friend. It is a Wednesday night. We are eating homemade cheesecake and drinking a sweet German Riesling. I have a little buzz and suddenly, we are watching When Harry Met Sally and commenting nonchalantly about Harry's cynical sexiness and Sally's unapologetic honesty. And in one hour, I'm turning twenty four.
In this real world I'm treading through (or flailing through), stress has been tumbling upon me like a pile of heavy, wet and unapologetic rocks. Because while in college the stress was completely personal, when you get a job - stress leaks onto other people's plates. Suddenly, you're no longer only responsible for yourself. You're responsible for an entire company.
When I was in college, I looked up into the sky and saw myself doing anything. I would wonder where on earth I was going to end up. HOW would I GET there? Now that I'm "grown up" and employed I laugh silently inside, unable to get to that dreamy and superficial place of wonder.
I recently purchased the UK edition of Cosmopolitan. Inside the glorious shiny cover was an article called, 'Do You Have Feeling Left Out Syndrome?' The first moment I looked at it with my glistening stank eye, I decided "No, I do not have a Feeling Left Out Syndrome. I never check my phone constantly, sign on to Facebook just to see what's up, update my Twitter every day or constantly imagine what everyone could possibly be doing at this very moment...." But then it hit me: I have 'Feeling Left Out Syndrome.' So bad.
When I was in college - where washing a single dish, "tweaking" my resume between naps and considering the gym were all labeled hard work - I thought I would never grow up to feel big adult moments. But I already have! And so many of them. So, let's get serious. I'm going to show you my top five...
