Today I wasted 45 minutes of my life driving through streets and parking structures I didn’t even know existed looking for parking on my first day back to school. You would think that I’d be able to find one parking space among the 14,000 spots SDSU claims to have. I ended up paying $12 to park in the one spot open in the KPBS visitor lot that is on the opposite side of campus from my first class (which I had already missed the first half hour of). I bought a semester trolley pass in a blind rage after class. Public transportation? Yikes. It’s gonna be one long semester.
This is MY LIFE for the next sixteen weeks (there are few things I enjoy more than organizing my Google calendar—Yes, I’m a total nerd). If you’re lucky, I’ll pencil you in somewhere between my classes, internship, regular job, possible weekend screen printing course and visits to the gym in attempts to be beach-ready for Hawaii in January. My best friend is a personal trainer and I work next door to the gym, so you’d think that I’d take advantage of that instead of taking advantage of my work’s proximity to Panera. Well… You’d think that if you didn’t know me and my love for sandwiches.
Congratulations to my dear friend on officially becoming a NAVY SEAL. I’ve never been so proud in my life. He’s been talking about becoming a seal ever since I rocked braces. He’s just one of those people who follows through with everything they say—a quality I’ve always admired, but am clearly lacking myself. It’s obvious by my extended stay at SDSU and Pammie’s ridiculous fifty-pound lead in our race to bring sexy back. I’ve been trying to get my life together, though. I’m taking an unheard of (to me, anyway) eighteen units this semester and keeping both my internship and regular job on top of school. Once this crazy semester is over, I’ll be taking a celebratory vacation in Hawaii with Pammie, Chel and Shi during winter break. And hopefully, I’ll be able to visit G on the east coast sometime before he comes back. There’s just so much I want to do, and I feel like I can do anything now. Trace and I were talking about moving up to LA together once she’s finished with cosmetology school. I’m looking forward to the possibility of living with my best friend (who just happens to be a personal fitness trainer. And a yoga instructor. And a hair stylist. Who cuts my hair for free). We’ll live in WeHo. She’ll do hair and I’ll do art. We’ll eat Pinkberry for breakfast. And maybe for lunch, too, if it’s that kinda day (and it will be). I’m not gonna lie. It’s gonna be fun times. If not LA, I’m open to moving to NYC and working for Connected Ventures. If I landed a job there after college, I would move to New York, no question.
Subtle reminders of my age have been more noticeable lately. I noticed it when I filled out a survey and realized, for the first time, I could no longer check the “18-24” age box. I noticed it when, on a recent trip to Vegas, the highlight of my weekend was not partying at Tao and being drunk off my ass, but watching a Cirque Du Soleil show completely sober. I noticed it when I was up at two in the morning researching a good primary care provider for my HMO instead of refreshing my Myspace page for new comments. Also, a lot of people I know got married and/or reproduced this year. I guess I’m around that age when things of that nature happen. I just always thought that it would happen to me by the time I hit twenty-five.
The thought of growing up used to terrify me, but now I’m excited about the years ahead. I guess it isn’t so bad when you’ve got Hawaiian vacations and the prospect of life in a new city to look forward to. I feel fortunate to have nothing (and no one) holding me back. Unless one of Gerald’s hot Navy Seal friends wants to hold me back. Because then I’d have to reconsider this whole single life in the city thing.