Coming of age. What a seemingly grand and perfect ideal. It just screams romance, and I don't mean in the lovey way... I mean in the grand and perfect way. I mean in the "of course it's grand and perfect, I'm coming of age" way. In fact, this is my new mantra as I am counting down the days. I'm not actually the "mantra chanting" sort of girl, never have been... but perhaps it is something that you take up when you "come of age". (aside: I read that someone out there is keeping a blog on inappropriate quote use and I am willing to do my part to help in any way that I can)
I will turn 25 in just under 5 days. I will be settled smack dab in my twenties. In just under 6 days, I will encounter my first akward and unsteady steps on the other side of the "Roaring, Raging Twenties" mountain. I will be this much closer to turning 30. THIRTY.
My best friend from high school, who incidentally is all hopped up on ephoric baby vibes, as she is 8 months along with her "first", turned 25 last week, and therefore has become my impromptu "coming of age mentor". Once you start chanting mantras, you must have a mentor. It's an unspoken rule.
"It's called a quarter life crisis." She says.
"Really? There's a name for it? That's depressing."
"Well, you know... it's like what college graduates go through when they are newly released into the real world."
"I graduated like 4 years ago."
"Yeah, well, that's what it is, anyway."
Quarter life crisis. As in the hipper, junior version of the midlife crisis. As in, we, the Sociology Majors of America, have decided to create yet another label to scar society, this time taking aim at our young adults... listen, kids, you've made it through the prebubecent whoas and adolecent turmoils, but before we can allow you completely out into the wild... we have just one more little challenge...
You will second guess your career, the career that you began only a few short and promising years ago. You will go to concerts and complain the music is too loud and listen to NPR radio and your way home from work. You will become addicted to caffine, try to quit, and take it up again to avoid the withdrawl. Your body will get soft and mushy, and not in a good way. You will dress in old faded alumni sweatshirts and faded jeans on the weekend and ann taylor loft on the weekdays. You will live for Friday, not Thursday. You will attend graduations, bachelorette parties, baby showers, and baptisms all in the same weekend. You will reverse rolls with your parents on a regular basis and people will stop telling you that you are too young for things. And that will make you sad, which is unexpected. Worst yet, you won't be able to ride roller coasters anymore.
And when you have sucessfully made it through this trechorous era of your life, your reward? Turning 30. Awesome.
