My 25th Year

Alright so I'm jumping the gun a tad on this whole birthday thing. But hey, what can I say? It's in my nature. If I recall correctly I used to prepare my family for my birthday about a month out (as if my mom weren't aware of the day I was born...), so let's just say I'm following my own example.

This year my birthday feels more noteworthy since I'm turning 25. Yep, a quarter century. As Deb would remark "I feel like you've been 25 for 10 years" (Thanks), which does ring true. To be honest I was actually cooler, or at least acted more like a 25 year old, when I was younger. Weekends were spent at the Black Cat and the 9:30 Club, I worked for XM Radio (summer intern = full-time employee, sure, but, not), and I was definitely much more "up to date" on what was on the Shortlist of Cool.

So, despite the fact that I'm no longer a harbinger of hip, I can't help but feel that turning 25 is like crossing over some strange threshold that changes the rules of the game. I can definitely say for a fact that the Quarter Life Crisis really does exist. Suddenly you start to think: "What have I been doing since I graduated from college three years ago?" "Is this job I'm doing right now going to be an indicator of the rest of my life?" "I still don't really know how the 'real world' works; who on Earth will explain that to me?"

Needless to say, I've been getting existential lately (perhaps it's the remnants of my philosophy degree) thinking about all of these things and more. Ok, so I got married this year. That's a pretty big accomplishment, and one that makes me happy. But I still am living in a 3rd world country (Sorry, 'Tina) and am all over the map, career-wise. It's hard not to think that at very best, my experiences here will congeal into something worthwhile (and lucrative) in the years that come, but you can't be too sure. Hell, Argentina could plummet into crisis in the next year or so (I'm actually counting on it), so how can I even plan ahead when I can't be sure what will happen tomorrow?

I shouldn't be in a rush. I should enjoy my 20s as a time to explore, to discover my strengths and learn from my shortcomings. To try wacky things and to throw myself into a new project with reckless abandon. And I'm doing that, to a certain extent. But how to reconcile that when what seems like "the rest of your friends" (clearly, everyone EVER) are on a much more steady, stable path. With a paycheck. And benefits.

However, I've always been the kind of girl who follows her own drummer (Hello, magenta hair at an all-girls Catholic school) so God knows why I'm worrying about these things now. I am blaming it on turning 25, that gnawing sensation that you're supposed to be a "responsible adult," whatever that means. One day I'll wake up and be 30, living in the proverbial basement of my parents' house (although Deb would probably love if we lived in her basement, so perhaps not the best metaphor) and have nothing to show for myself. That's a pretty common fear these days.

Snap out of it, I know. No need to wallow in self-pity. I should celebrate these 25 years as some sort of victory, right? That my entire "adult" life (aka life post-college, because let's be honest, college life is not real in any way, shape or form) I've lived abroad, managed to find interesting work and also meet my husband (who's pretty darn cool, I have to say) .... When you think about it, it's not so bad.

Part of the fun is figuring things out along the way. At least that's what I've learned while living in Buenos Aires. Planning too much or too far in advance won't get you anywhere; things are bound to change anyway. Go with the flow. Wing it. Improvise. Live in the moment. Whatever you want to call it, let's agree that it's about enjoying the things that life throws our way.

Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me. If you'd like a copy of my Wish List I can send it to you. Just let me know.

PS: Thanks to Theresa for sending me this article from the NYT about our plight!!!