When I was five, I wanted to be an artist. This dream lasted until I was abruptly confronted with the fact that my drawing skills were limited to well, pretty much, stick-figures and dotted lines.
When I was seven, I saw potential for myself in the realm of rockstardom. I was fully committed by Halloween of that year. I took to the sidewalks with my ravishing red feather boa and matching satin dress, which my mother sewed for me (that makes it couture right?), and came home with bags full of free loot. It was all very diva like, and I felt I could easily acquiesce into this lifestyle. However, I quickly lost interest sometime around early spring when my role as Little Miss Muffet included singing; And someone recorded it.
When I was eleven, I was convinced my future was secure in the world of lawyerism. I practiced on my parents practically every time I opened my mouth. I took my sentence of "grounding" as constructive criticism. My biggest hindrance was that I was not quite the social butterfly I am today, meaning, I didn't speak in public unless spoken to first, and even then it was a toss up. This aspiration was reignited circa 2001 (which puts us at 15/16) when Legally Blond was all the rage. I mean seriously, if Elle Woods could do it, clearly Hollywood was telling me I was on the right path.
When I was seventeen, my parents told me I had a business mind, so I majored in business; that is until the university told me in more than one harsh letter, "try again," with an exclamation point. I was pretty good at talking, I'd been doing it just about my whole life, so I went into communication. I liked movies and I was pretty social, so I concentrated in film & media studies and society & rhetoric; double to make up for lost time. Obviously.
When I was 21, I was over-experienced and un(der)employed. So I did what any recent college grad does in the case of a bottomless recession. I moved home - bribed with the promise of insurance, free rent, and a gym membership - and went to work in the family business, education.
When I had enough of letting my potential take a nap, I applied for grad school. Armed with a deadline of finishing no later than 25 and a new master plan (which was more like an outline really), I headed back into the world of high priced academia.
Which brings us up-to-date, 25, a week away from graduation, Master's program (mostly) in the bag. And what next? A world of possibilities! Any suggestions?
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