Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Mindless Birthday Yodeling

Every year, around my birthday, I get very introspective and take inventory on my life and the progress I've made during the year.  And when I think about my progress it always helps me to visualize the yodeler game on "The Price is Right" where the little German man slowly makes his way up the mountain. This fits because to me there is no better metaphor for life than a mountain nor for me than a tiny German man. But anway,  because my birthday falls around Labor Day, thus around the close of summer, to me it seems to mark a year better than New Year's Eve.    Nothing feels like it's starting in January, especially in Ohio where it's balls cold and depressing and bleak as soon as Christmas decorations come down.   To me, summer always marked a happy ending and then with the new school year, fall seemed like an optimistic beginning.  So, September 3rd seemed like as good a time as any to think about my life and make "resolutions" of sorts.

Very similar to me. 

I've had some bad birthdays.   Milestone birthdays epecially tend to be bleak for me.     I broke up with my first love a few days after my 18th birthday.  He bought me an ice cream scoop when I had hinted (and come on, I'm not a subtle hinter, he knew) for jewelry. Which to me, sends the message, "I don't think you deserve something pretty, but hey Fatass, I know you like icecream..." He also left my party to go buy a new car and then disapeared to go show it off to people, leaving me feeling like an afterthought.  

On my 21st birthday I got the stomach flu a few days prior and could barely eat.  The idea of a blow-out party with alcohol seemed impossible, but I tried to rally anyway, and my flu-ravaged body couldn't handle even a normal amount of alcohol so I ended up blacking out at 11pm.  And even though most people black out on their 21st, it wasn't a vegas-y, "The Hangover," fun-party, kind of blackout, it was more like what happens after squeemish people donate blood.

And then there's this year.   It isn't a milestone or anything, but it is the first year I've felt like an adult. And when I take inventory, I feel pretty optimistic about the coming-year. I seem to keep yodeling up that moutain...  And looking back, I really don't have regrets.  22 wasn't that bad, but 23 feels like it's going to be amazing.  Even though according to the Lily Allen song, "22," everything goes downhill from here.     

There have been a lot of changes for me this year.  While some of my peers have gotten married, bought houses, or had babies, I instead, ended my first adult relationship, leased an apartment, and adopted a kitten.  I also bought my first car with my first ever adult pay check from my first ever adult job.  Since I'm not great with change, the culmination of all these things within the last three months should have sent me into a drug-laden tailspin or a homicidal rage--but instead I think I've handled it pretty well.   There was definitely a period where I was bored and lonely.  I saw my whole life in front of me; stuck in a monotonous job, seeing the same people everyday, following the same tired routine, falling asleep at 10pm and then starting all over again.   But I don't think that's going to be the case anymore. 

I think I'm gong to figure out how to not suck at my job.  I think I'm going to stop trying to acquire Mad Men-esque Betty Draper cooking skills because honestly, who the fuck cares if the cake is homemade or Betty Crocker as long as it tastes good?  I think I'm going to try new things, like karoke singing or using Finish dishwasing packs instead of Cascade gel because even though it's a little more expensive, I deserve my dishes to be spakling clean.  I am also going to stop worrying if I have food on my face and just assume I do.   And mostly, I think I'm going to keep just being myself.   A tiny little German yodeler, pluggin' his way up the mountain. 

1 comment:

  1. I think that's a safe assumption. You probably still have nacho cheese on the corner of your mouth from Monday.