Home > Uncategorized > “Remember who you wanted to be.”

“Remember who you wanted to be.”

Ok. So suffice it to say, I was a little angry the last time I wrote. Sorry about that….

 

But I’m going to write about something happy now!

 

I was walking to work the other day and not really paying attention to where I was going. I was walking through some parking lot and finally looked up to see where I was. When I did, I glanced at a car that was parked right in front of me and covered in bumper stickers. One caught my eye and made me stop in my tracks. It was obviously very old, fading and peeling off at  the edges. But the message was beautiful:

 

Remember who you wanted to be.

 

I love it. Don’t we always forget that? The person I wanted to be, say, five years ago is so different from the person I want to be now. Then, I wanted to be in love with the person I was going to marry. I just wanted the fairy-tale romance. I didn’t know what I wanted out of school or life. It’s a little sad that I wanted so little for myself. Now, my dreams have changed, obviously.

Most of you know my grandmother recently passed away after a courageous battle with Alzheimer’s. Some of my biggest fears now are watching someone else in my family suffer through that ordeal, or, that I will have to go through it myself.

I don’t want to wake up five or ten years from now and forget who I wanted to be. Not because of Alzheimer’s or something like that, but simply because of the pace of life. I don’t want to get so caught up in making it that I forget why I went to Boston (or wherever I end up) in the first place.

I don’t want to  forget all the little aspects of myself that make me who I am right now, this minute, at age 21, two months and eight days before my college graduation. Because frankly? I love myself. I like who I am, finally. For the most part–of course there are things I would change, such as how I am too impatient and I am sometimes selfish. But the things that make me happy and make me tick, I love. So I believe I will list them here, to have proof in ten years this person did exist. And hopefully, in ten years, I will be who I want to be.

So here goes:

I love my cat because he is the one thing right now who will be going with me wherever I go–Boston, New York, the edges of the earth. Doesn’t matter–Copper will be my tagalong. And that is why I put up with his frustrating antics.

I love music not because of the beat or the melody, but because of the lyrics. I am a bookworm, and so of course I will be looking for the lyrics in music. Like this one:

“I’ll be out of my mind
And you’ll be out of ideas
Pretty soon
So let’s spend
The afternoon in a cold hot air balloon
Leave your jacket behind
Lean out and touch the treetops over town
I can’t wait
To kiss the ground
Wherever we touch back down.” —Hot Air Balloon, by Owl City

Or:

“The silence isn’t so bad

Til I look at my hands and feel sad.

Cause the spaces between my fingers

Are right where your fits perfectly.”  —Vanilla Twilight, by Owl City.

I love these songs. They are totally weird and quirky, but the lyrics are fun and playful. I also currently love The Rescues. If I had a show like The Hills, my theme song would be “Boston” by Augustana. I like music that moves me because of the lyrics.

I love that I love living by myself, but I think I’m ready to live with someone again. It gets lonely.

I love college. I know this is surprising, but finally, I feel like I’ve found my spot within it. It’s sad I will have to leave so soon, but at least I have two months to enjoy all my friends and have fun. (Of course, it is now time to start getting my shit together. Ack.)

I am proud of my jobs. I think they are an accomplishment for me, especially because I never thought I could amount to anything. My time at Tech has shown me if I just try, and reach for something I want even when I’m not sure I can get it, I just might luck out. 🙂

I don’t want to forget the nights that moved me the most. A lot of these nights have happened recently. I loved the night I got a private tour of Boston at night, and raced through the city in the pouring, refreshing rain with a guy I barely knew. (Stupid, yes, but also: magical. Breathtaking. Memorable. I never want to forget that night.) I don’t want to forget dancing in a bar with my cousin in the middle of Beantown. I don’t want to forget getting hooked on Grey’s Anatomy and watching with friends. There are nights I have cried so hard my stomach hurt and nights I laughed so hard my mouth ached. I don’t want to forget nights I kissed someone so much my lips were swollen the next morning. (Nothin’ dirty guys, just kissing.) I don’t want to forget the night a friend gave me a Reese’s and a Hershey’s dark chocolate Mr. Goodbar and told me to choose one, because that was my future. I chose the Goodbar, and that was Emerson. (And it’s now taped to my computer at work.) I don’t want to forget the nights I drank too much wine, but yet had some of the most meaningful and heartfelt conversations with a new, great friend.

I don’t want to forget how much all these people in my life have meant to me. That scares me. And that’s an Alzheimer’s fear. What if I forget these beautiful nights, and these beautiful people? It’s terrifying.

I don’t want to forget how much I love playing racquetball. It is fun and I am lame for putting on it, but I love it.

I want to remember how much I loved my English classes in college. I am disappointed I didn’t do a double major, but hopefully, I can continue taking a few classes somewhere down the road.

I want to remember what drove me. What my passion was. And what is that? My “anywhere-but-here” syndrome. Hopefully that will pass once I get to where I think I want to be. Which is Boston. 🙂

 I also want to remember how much I love my parents. I fight with them and sometimes I’m so angry at them it hurts, but truly, they are great people. I know they love me, and I know they don’t understand me right now. I just wish I could have their moral support. That’s all I want.

So that’s who I am now. I don’t really know who I want to be.

 

All I know is, I will NOT wake up five years from now and wonder why I didn’t go to Boston. It’s time to do some serious planning. I could be there three months from today potentially.

That’s a crazy thought.

 

Oh, guess what? I’m published. Just ask.

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  1. June 17, 2010 at 2:24 pm

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