The Flight of the Twenty Something: Autobiographical Intent Only

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?  
       

A Suitcase Full of Anxiety

I can't speak for anyone else in the population, but I assume [read: hope] I am not alone when I say that packing gives me extreme anxiety.  In fact, sometimes it causes me so much stress that I literally am forced to lay down.  I understand that it sounds extreme, but let's deconstruct the idea of packing, shall we.

When you are going on a trip, often times there is only a tentative or "loose" schedule of events.  This means that you are essentially packing for both this planned trip and all of the alternatives, at the same time.  Men may have less of a problem with this idea, but if you are a female and anything like me, this means options are needed.

My mother is not like me.  If she is going away for a week, she pulls out a suitcase (or maybe only a large backpack), places approximately 3-4 bottoms, 5-6 tops, 1 pair of shoes and enough under garments and toiletries to get her through; she probably takes longer and deliberates more on choosing what goes in her carry-on than on anything that will clothe her.

Me, on the other hand, I am O.C.D. about packing.

I have to wash every item, or as close to that as possible, before packing can commence.  I like all of my options (and there are a LOT) to be hung up or folded in the appropriate place so that I can than go through and pick and choose and scrutinize before deciding on the contents of my bag.  The problem with this is that I am also extremely busy and laundry has a tendency to pile up.  That means that before I even pick out a suitcase (and there are options there, too), I probably have around 5 loads of laundry that need washing, drying, hanging, folding, and ironing if I'm not inspired enough to move quickly*.  After this is all completed, I have to coordinate outfit options.  Unlike my mother's wardrobe, not everything I own can be paired with everything in it.


Some things that complicate packing unnecessarily include, but are not limited to:

1. A tendency to over pack
2. An active imagination of what the trip might entail
3. Accessorizing (shoes, bags, jewelry, etc.)**
4. Confidence issues that all of a sudden I am acutely aware of

However, it helps when I have shopping bags of new clothes to help my efforts.*** 

I pack, and repack, and contemplate for several hours (give or take depending on the amount of time I will be gone) before zipping up my bag and struggling to lift it off the bed and onto the floor, where it sits until I decide to redo part of the process; adding or eliminating something that probably less than 20 minutes before I was certain I did/did not need.  And than I call someone else in my household to haul the bag downstairs.  Occasionally, I make more decisions once it is out of my sight.  Carry-on bags for me, however, present no problem; grab my iPod touch (and charger), whatever book I'm reading (been procrastinating on reading) and the latest issue of Glamour or Cosmopolitan and I'm set - Let's be honest, if I'm a) in the passenger's seat or b) flying, than I'm sleeping most of the way regardless..I don't even pretend anymore that anything productive will be accomplished in this transitional period.

This Friday, I will be last minute packing for Atlanta (where I will be spending the next week hanging out with the Altered crew)..wish me luck!

*I also prefer a neat and tidy room, not often, but for this purpose -- it helps alleviate stress during this painful process.

**In the winter the weather presents an additional and time consuming problem, adding hats, scarfs, gloves, etc.

***Which I do.