The 505

As I opened up the blogger website I suddenly realized what a cliche I've become. I'm all hopped up on caffeine at a local coffee shop, typing a ten page paper for grad school, using my blog to distract me from school work. Hmmmm. I think I need a job.

Anyway, this will be short and sweet, because as I said, I'm in the middle of typing a ten page paper. I have found just about every way possible to avoid working on this dreaded paper. I've responded to all outstanding emails and organized my inbox, tweeted and facebooked, caught up on my Google Reader, checked every news website, looked for a job, looked for an apartment (which doesn't come without the job, but it doesn't hurt to know what's out there). And throughout the process I've been pumping Pandora through my earphones.

Here comes the point of this post. Have you ever heard a song and decided that the songwriter must have read your journal or something? (Oh, by the way, nearly every time I read my horoscope over at astrobarry.com, I'm convinced the man has way too much insight into what's happening in my life... if you like reading your horoscope at all, I highly recommend this site) That's what happened to me with 505 by the Arctic Monkeys. I don't think they're talking about heading back to my version of the 505, considering they are from the UK, but you never know. I can't say how else I relate, being that I don't think I should divulge too much of my love life on a public website, so enjoy. This is probably as much as I'll reveal when it comes to that aspect of my life in Albuquerque (like anyone really cares anyway. :))

Thirteen.

Growing up, I just wanted to turn 13.

Besides the obvious factor of finally being a teenager, that was the age I would get to ride in a hot air balloon for the first time. 

Hot air balloons were a huge part of my childhood. My next door neighbor and best friend’s family owned the Zia balloon. Every October I would trek out to the balloon field with my family, and with Kristen’s, and was a regular on the Zia balloon chase crew.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/see_albuquerque/4174179981/

But, by the time I turned 13, I no longer lived next door to Kristen, and I spent the majority of my time with best friends Allison and Margo (sidenote: these two are now practically sisters to me). I never got that highly anticipated ride in the hot air balloon. 

Obviously, being in Albuquerque for the Balloon Fiesta has me nostalgic for that time in my life. But, as an unemployed grad student (read: piles of debt) living at my parents house, I feel as though I missed the hot air balloon ride a second time around. This is not to say I am unhappy with my life, just that the expectations of what I thought I would be doing at this age aren’t being met. As a seven year old waiting for 13 to arrive, it never crossed my mind that there was a myriad of unforeseen events that would come to pass in the next six years. My parents would decide to move, and Kristen and I would grow apart. Not only that, but while the ride in the hot air balloon was certainly still appealing at 13, I hardly thought of it, as my mind was occupied with other things (like the discoveries of boys and makeup).

Friends my age are all at different stages of “adulthood”: some are married, some have children, some have steady jobs, some are in school, some live with their parents (um, hi, hello there). There have been a lot of reports out lately about how adulthood isn’t what it used to be. There are plenty of people my age moving in with their parents, going back to school, working at a restaurant after graduating college. And for the first time, the number of unmarried people between 25 and 34 is higher than those who are married.

istockphoto.com via npr.org

There’s a certain level of uncertainty as one steps off the precipice into adulthood. And now that adulthood is supposedly being redefined, life choices become fuzzier. Up until 22, I always knew what the next step would be. Now 22 feels pretty far behind, and I still have no idea what the next step is.

But I do know this: I don’t want to settle. I don’t want to settle into a relationship or a job just because these things are expected of me. Maybe that’s why our generation is redefining adulthood: many of us grew up with fairy tales and being told we can be whatever we want to be. We want to find that person who “completes us”(a la Jerry Maguire), and a job that means more than just a paycheck.

I don’t feel so bad for taking my time. I have gotten to live on both coasts and meet people who have changed everything from my outlook on life to the music I listen to. I got to know myself the only way I knew how: by forcing myself out of my comfort zone. Now I have a better idea of what career I might want, and what I want from a relationship. And after all the work I’ve done to learn these things about myself, I am sure of one thing: the balloon ride will happen someday, and I’m sure it will be worth the wait.