I am excited to finally start working. Anyone who has spent time with me in the last two months is excited, too. Because turns out I am a miserable little (but actually chubby, not little) bunny when time stretches before me with nothing to fill it.
As that comes to an end (praaaaise Jesus!) I’m looking back on these last nine weeks and thinking to myself, “Rachel – you idiot! All that time and what do you have to show for it?!” In my last post I outlined some random things I’ve managed to accomplish: make lasagna, do some traveling, write some bloggies. But when you think of the chunk of time, there are some way cooler things I should have done:
- Watched all top AFI movies and been a legitimate cinephile like Michael Bolton. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, stop everything you’ve ever done and watch this video. (language)
- Learned Russian or Mandarin or something useful.
- Planted a garden and loved it. Put a fairy castle in it.
- Caught a firefly in a mason jar and posted it to instagram. as you do.
- Bought a fish and taught it tricks.
- Fulfilled my dream of having a tshirt business with witty sayings.
- Read more things that are called books and not reddit.com. Although, then I would have missed this amazing photo:
- Written you everyday for a year.
- Gotten way better on guitar. (though I have memorized “Call Me Maybe.”)
- Taken an online class in origami and sent Ryann a thousand paper cranes because she loves that book.
- Fulfilled my dream of publishing a children’s book for adults about my pirate jokes.
- Worked out twice a day and lost the vacation weight.
- Perfected my craft brewwomanship. Although I do have a fine Oktoberfest fermenting at the moment. (I’m not known for being on time.)
Written the greatest american novel of all time about a girl named Rachel who is a star on Saturday Night Live and then gets her own show where she writes all the scripts and makes out with hot actors all the time, a la Tina Fey.
- Written our congresspeople and gotten the government back on track through the power of my words.
- Attempted any of the eight million crafts, home ec tricks, or hairstyles I’ve spent countless hours pinning on Pinterest.
- Perfected the haiku. Here’s what I got so far:
on the nightstand remind me
how i love to eat.
- Truly learned how to knit, instead of trying it six times with a craft kit from Joann’s and finally settling on this:
- Become Youtube or twitter famous. But I’m not good at swearing and raunchy jokes. I’m more about whining about crossfit or talking myself out of cutting bangs. Or defending chicking nuggets.
- Taken a cooking class. So I can one day raise my children on more than guacamole and said chicken nuggets.
Alas. I didn’t do any of these things. But I did make my bed every day. And things are so bad that they’re funny most of the time!
And it’s my half birthday today! I have six months left of my twenties. Which I look at as license to make all the last mistakes I will ever make with no shame, no regrets.
I feel like getting a tiny tattoo somewhere. But I’m scared of my grandma. THIRTY. Scared of my grandma.
I feel like piercing my nose. I feel like driving too fast. Like eating candy for breakfast. Like throwing something through a window just to see what happens. Like getting in the car or on a plane or on a train and getting off somewhere with just a backpack and seeing what happens.