Tag Archives: aging

What I Wish I Knew in 2001

In 2001 I had secured offers to four out of the five colleges I applied to for costume design. Had I selected any other program my life would be entirely different today. However, the major factor which shifted my life was my sheer naivety regarding how art itself could have become a viable career for a person with a creative soul like myself, vs running from it so haphazardly because I didn’t want to get caught up in a field so superficial untied to a career.

Maybe I made the wrong choice. I don’t know. What I didn’t know then was that 10 years later I’d be working in enterprise software. That instead of leveraging my creativity to launch my own fashion line or show my work in galleries, I’m ghostwriting copy for reports that ultimately matter only so much as they gain the attention of prospective buyers. I could die tomorrow and nothing I’ve created in the past 10 years of my life would matter at all. In fact, most of it already doesn’t. Continue reading What I Wish I Knew in 2001

Pretzels and Aging, and Money and Roller Coasters

If it seems like I’m posting an awfully lot lately about my fears of my adulthood simultaneously while being an adult, you’re quite astute. I am, it feels, either at a crossroads or the end of a formerly cyclical journey where I’ve gone through first-world chaos and landed back where I began.

At 17, I left home for college, not because I wanted to go to college, or knew what I wanted to be when I grew up, but I knew what I didn’t want to be. I knew I didn’t want to live in a house with parents screaming at each other night and day. But I also was well educated in the suffocation of stagnant suburban life. The long nights with crickets chirping. The circumference connecting one mall to another mall to another mall which stood for the area in which my life took place, sans occasional outings to the big city. Even New York felt small in comparison to the whole world, its looming skyscrapers twinkling into the night sky, and thousands of people dispersing from subway stations and walking every which direction, was just a speck of a world that was far from reach. Continue reading Pretzels and Aging, and Money and Roller Coasters

There’s Logic to this Depression

I hate making every other post about my mental health situation (you don’t believe me, do you?), but everything seems to tie back to that these days. Some spans of time are better than others, but overall this deep sense of panic is inescapable. I’m not being overly dramatic, it is just what I’m feeling at the moment. So I write about it. It’s better than some other ways to deal with it, anyway.

That said, I could focus on doing things like meditating — recommended to me by both my doctor and therapist — to help calm down and feel centered — but ultimately I’m just grabbing at loose ends here. So I’m depressed. Clearly. I’m just lost. On the days that end in massive amounts of tears and gasping for air, looking for a way out, I just try, to the best of my ability, to pull the pieces together and give myself the positive reinforcement required to shut my eyes, clear my head, and face another day. It’s not that bad, but then it is. You know?

Turning 30 has been harder than I expected for me. Besides the whole biological clock – going-to-be-really-really-hard-to-have-kids-thanks-PCOS – situation, I’ve run into some new medical issues. Nothing life-threatening so far, knock on wood, but things that seem to swing into play at a certain age and genetic disposition. Not to be all TMI (isn’t that the point of this blog) but my mother and grandmother have GERD and apparently I now have it too (if you don’t know what that is and really want to know, be my guest and look it up, but anyway it’s not fun. A whole new diet and a pill should help.) Yeay for being/getting old* (*not to offend anyone older than 30! Trust me I’ll be there soon as well.) Continue reading There’s Logic to this Depression

6 Months Old Baby Vs 30 Year Old Woman

Babies are awesome. They poop all over the place and cry when they don’t have boobs in their mouth. But, seriously, the opportunity to watch an infant grow up is quite miraculous. What’s truly amazing is how fast newborns learn. The last time I was around a kid that young I was seven watching my sister turn into a person. I barely remember that.

This time around I have the fortune of watching a good friend’s child grow from a blob of barely conscious to a real person. What I miss in between monthly visits, I catch in short clips posted to YouTube. Yes, he has his own Facebook page. At six months old, he recognizes faces and smiles when you smile at him. He’s just beginning to crawl. Everyday he does and learns something new. Continue reading 6 Months Old Baby Vs 30 Year Old Woman

Looking Back and Looking Forward

This week I attended my high school’s 10 year reunion. After it being cancelled (not enough people wanted to pay $90 a pop for an open bar), a bunch of my classmates decided to meet up at a local bar on the same night. The evening was as awkward as reunions must always be  — seeing people you haven’t seen in 10 years (except on Facebook), people who hated you or ignored you in high school, now attempting to act like grown ups and be nice to each other.

It was, as reunions are, a place where plenty of people were connecting with lost connections, and old friends. What was most fascinating to me was where everyone was in their lives, 10 years in from high school graduation. Of course the people who showed up at this reunion (maybe 6% of our whole high school class) weren’t the ones who were stalled in their lives. But everyone was on a path, some more clear than others, and it was interesting to see how people’s lives were shaping out.

It also made me quite introspective about my own life and my choices. I’ve done so much, professionally, since graduating college, that I haven’t really had time to stop and think about how to make a living doing what I really love — helping people and understanding people. The INFP in me does my best work when my ethics and beliefs align squarely with that which I produce. I like harmony, not discordance. And life isn’t like school where there are right or wrong choices, you just make choices, day in and day out, with some making sense and others leading you off the deep end, where you may or may not be able to swim yourself out of it.

In any case, this has led me back to thinking I really would like to go to graduate school, and have the time to pursue something that lights up the right spots in my brain. This something will be psychology, sociology, or human computer interaction. And will be sometime in the next five years. I realize that despite an MBA being the right choice for my career, it’s not the right choice for me.

The Obligatory What I’m Thankful For / Birthday Post

Tomorrow, I’ll be turning 28! That’s a big number. It’s one of those numbers that is only scary in how it’s only two years away from 30. I’ve always felt ones 20s were still a time for trial and error, but come my 30s, I need to get serious. About everything.

I think I’m way ahead of where I thought I’d be in terms of my career, but otherwise I’m still a bit behind. I didn’t end up going to graduate school (though I still dream of getting an MBA and/or a painting MFA one day), I’m sans an engagement ring, have no bun in the oven, no mortgage, or any long-term commitments and responsibilities. Quite frankly, outside of living a fairly hum-drum life in the burbs versus spending my 20s in the big bad city, I think I’ve done my “pre-30” 20’s justice. And I have two more years left to close out the final chapters of my self-defined youth and move on to actual adulthood.

That said, it so happens my birthday falls on Thanksgiving, and at this time of year, every year, I think about what I’m thankful for, and there happens to be a mighty long list to review.

I’m so fortunate to have all the opportunities that are on my plate right now, even though sometimes I get frustrated with my own abilities and insecurities. I’m thankful for my family, for my friends, for my wonderful boyfriend, and for things always managing to work out as long as you push through the hard times and just don’t give up.

Most of all, I’m thankful for coming to terms with and accepting that happiness is not made of, or from money, and that I may just be happier in the long term without it. I’m thankful for being able to see the world in a different way than my parents, and that one day I may be able to pass on these insights to my own children. I’m grateful for being able to travel for work to see my family anyway, because I love them and all their nuttiness, because who they are made me who I am, for better or worse, and there are some days when I even like being me.

And I’m thankful to you… my blog readers… who come back and read of my ups and downs of life, and leave me thoughtful comments, or don’t and just choose to read and be anonymous, and for knowing that my honesty might be helping someone else out there know s/he isn’t alone, that there are always down days and up days, but we’re all in this big pointless yet spectacular life together. So thank you for reading.

Girls Just Want to Have Fun

When I was filling out the “10 financial commandments for your 20s” post, one of the commandments said that you should be focusing on having fun in your 20s. That one bullet sent me into a bit of an identity crisis. I started to try to remember what I consider fun… and it was really difficult to find something. I’m struggling to find anything outside of my job that is fun in my life.

I’m turning 28 next month, and while the birthdays before this one haven’t felt significant, I am starting to feel, well, old. Now, I know some of you who read my blog are much older than I am, and I don’t mean that you’re extra old. I’m just saying that — as the world around me ages — I question not just what I’m living for, but also what I’m not living for. One thing I’ve realized lately is that I’ve died a few times so far in my life. For instance, the young me that I once was died a long time ago. She doesn’t exist any more. She might not be buried under ground, but she’s just as dead as a corpse. And although I never loved her, I still miss her and need to take the time to morn her passing. I also need to remember what made her happy, and try to bring some of that back into my life. Continue reading Girls Just Want to Have Fun

At 27, I Purchased My First “Anti-Wrinkle Cream”

“What are those… those… red creases in my forehead?,” I silently scream to myself as I study my aging face in the mirror, reflexively squeezing my forehead flesh in a worried expression making the thin lines even more pronounced. “Since when did I have wrinkles?” I’m 27 and my face shows it. I’m not sure how a 27 year old face is supposed to look, but I do know that my friends who are in their 30s look older in a way that makes them look like actual adults, and that suddenly people in their 40s don’t seem all that much older than people in their 30s to me. Meanwhile, my 27-year-old face is, well, it’s changing. It’s slowly but surely turning 30.

I remember about five years ago when I had caught my reflection in the bathroom at some random party after drinking one too many glasses of wine, and I didn’t recognize myself. I’ve spent far too many hours of my life looking in the mirror, either slathering my face with makeup or watching tears fall down my cheeks during a depressive outburst, so it was terrifying not to recognize my face. I look old, I thought. And then I was maybe 20 or 21…

There was a time when I thought it was silly to spend money on anything to keep yourself looking youthful, but I’m beginning to understand the trend. In a report by iData Research, a leading authority in pharmaceutical market research, the market for Botox injections is expected grow to an estimated $543 million by 2017. Clearly, those pharma companies know how to prick us in our sore spots.

While I’m not quite ready for botox, the other day I did find myself, for the first time in my life, staring at the aisle of overpriced wrinkle reduction creams and products designed to make you look youthful on my latest trip to the drugstore. Every skincare line offers some retinol product that promises “RESULTS.” After staring at the selection for a good half an hour, I went with a Neutrogena wrinkle cream product that set me back $23, more because I trust the brand (go marketing) than the label that said “100% of women noticed results in one week.”

From a personal finance perspective, this has me worried. Surely I can let my face age naturally, I can stay out of the sun from this point on (though the damage has, to a large extend, already been done) and just accept that I’m getting older… or, I can do what many other women do, and spend somewhere between too much and a ridiculous amount of money on attempting to look young forever.

My mother, who is in her late 50s, complains how she doesn’t have the money to spend on Botox… $600+ for a few small areas, twice a year, but she still spends (likely) nearly that much in various creams and sessions with her dermatologist, even without the overpriced muscle-freezing injections. Damn, it’s expensive being a woman. It seems the options are to either marry rich and look young forever, or just accept that one day you will look in the mirror, and you will have to look a lot deeper into your eyes to see any evidence the girl you once were.