Being Nineteen

I am always thinking about how I can be special, what I can do to make myself feel successful, things I wish I had that would make me special.  I’ve been a part of special things before and they were the things that made life valuable. All of those things happened in high school and I’ve kept a promise with myself that I would never be someone who peaked in high school or just do mediocre things.  I refuse to ever get a sensible job, even if I have to live in a box.  I’ve flirted with the idea of so many professions that all take incredible luck and convenient timing.  I went to NYC to be a Broadway actress then realized I didn’t really even like Broadway all that much.  I’ve thought about moving to Europe for a year just to say I did it.  I’ve even thought of moving to LA and becoming a yoga instructor/art teacher/starving actress. 

I don’t know what it’s like when you’re no longer a teenager, but nineteen has been the most confusing year of my life.  The only way I can describe this age is you’re finally out of the haze of hormones and high school, and it’s really the first time you’re conscious of being an intellectual being in the sense that you have so many opportunities and choices, but then you’re condemned to sit in a building for most of your day and figure out what in the hell you’re going to make of yourself while you’re tuning out lectures about formal criticism, industrialism, and dead people who played the lute.

Do I have an idea of what I want to do for a living? Yes. I think. Maybe.  Possibly. Why.  WHO’S ASKING? WAIT DON’T MAKE THAT MY FINAL ANSWER!

 Friends TV Marathon anyone?

Things I’m Exceptionally Good At

 

You know those nice headphones Apple gives you when you get a new phone?  I love those little guys.  Did you know I am excellent at ripping them out of my ears?  Yeah, it’s great.  I’ll be listening to music, and I’ll try to readjust my sitting position, and every single time without a doubt, my hands expertly find a way to yank those little buds from my ears.

Some people can brag about getting a full night’s sleep.  Well, they have nothing on me. Sometimes I stay up and watch the sun rise before falling asleep.  Occasionally I’ll cave and sleep, but I’ve been getting so good lately.  I’m almost at a perfect record of least amounts of hours slept in a week for me.  It’s exhilarating.

On a related note, I am very good at forgetting what day it is in the morning.  Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I need to be to school at 11am, but Tuesday and Thursday is 10am.  It’s great because not only am I a talented Day Forgetter, I have a hidden talent of not knowing what time it is when I wake up.  Even when I stare right at the time, I can’t even tell! So I’m almost being promoted to being a Tardy Student.

Sometimes when I do make it to class, teachers tell me to speak.  I am one of the best at making my voice sound all sorts of strange.  Let’s see… Oh! I can stutter really well.  Almost to the point where I need to start over, but I’m not that good yet.  Also I could teach a course in forgetting to clear your throat before you speak so that it sounds like you’ve smoked 3 packs of cigarettes on your walk from your car to the classroom. 

Last but certainly not least, I have an impeccable knack at leaving things in my car especially my phone.  Actually I’m just a pro at forgetting my phone in general.  I once forgot my phone was on my lap while I was driving, that when I stood up to get out of the car, it fell in the street.  Not only that, but I didn’t remember I forgot it for an hour.  I guess someone realized that I needed an award for forgetting my phone in such an ultimate way; they left their tire tracks on it.  But props go to my phone for never ever breaking, whether it was me dropping it down a flight of stairs, or getting run over a car, my little guy has hung tough. (Knock on wood)