Away I go. Off to Denver.
Although I have been fighting against the idea of going to Denver, as I did not want to “follow my parents” for I’m now a certified “grown-up,” there are too many reasons for me to say YES. And so I’ve said it.
I’ll leave August 13th to drive the truck out, work with my dad to finish out the basement apartment and begin to settle. I have a few strong job leads and am not worried about finding something great [there are also three good programs that could have me finished with my yoga certification by December].
My parents are in town for the week. My dad took the truck in to get tuned up before I haul it to CO in a few weeks and I had to drive and pick up the keys before the shop closed yesterday. I got lost. Lost in Crowley, TX. I couldn’t remember the back-road my dad had cited, nor which street went where off the main road in town. I had to google-map the place.
As I was driving back, I couldn’t believe that I had forgotten my way around our small town. I began to think of all the other information I had stored in my brain that did not allow me to remember the way to the shop. It had been about five years since I had driven through Crowley avoiding it every time I came to see my parents.
In five years:
- I’ve taken over 150 hrs of college credit,
- consumed over 1,000 alcoholic beverages,
- made over 200 new friends [real people, not facebook],
- traveled to nearly all of the 50 states [I said nearly…I’m short just five],
- traveled overseas,
- lived in DC,
- dated over 50 guys,
- learned [and forgot] hundreds of dances,
- gone to Mardi Gras twice,
- lived in LA,
- read over 500 for-pleasure-books,
- ran hundreds of miles and two races,
…and those are just the items I can come up with on the spot. It makes since that I cannot remember the streets I drove for just two years.
Looking at the list at 23, I feel like there are many things I still haven’t done that I should have, things that are normal: I’ve made no big purchase, I’ve never had any real job besides dance/internships, I’ve never paid rent or bills, I haven’t been to five of the states, I’ve never been in love or had anyone be in love with me.
But in August: I’m going to have bills to pay, I’ll have a real job, and I’m making a big purchase [ok, so small in comparison = road bike]. And then I’ll add those items to the list and then find more to where in five years they won’t even matter.
Today I was thinking about how I will say things in the past tense, “that’s from when I was in college,” “in my 20s,” “back when I was at A&M,” “when I lived in Texas,” and I didn’t feel nostalgic, I fell propelled.
I fell very lucky to have had the numbered lists of life-items, but even more so, to have the chance to do it over again and again, remaking myself into what I am meant to be. And doing so without the feeling that there is anything wrong with it, or that I should settle down, or spend time on something more long term, concrete. There is no bigger investment than the one I’ll make in the present moment.
Come to Denver and visit me, dammit.