Delta delta delta

When I was 15 I knew – KNEW – that I would grow up to be an Economic Historian. I would major in Industrial and Labor Relations and Economics at Cornell and I would do my doctoral thesis (oh yes, I was going to be a PhmotherfuckingD) on something to do with how economic conditions in the late 20th centure impacted labor unions. I wanted to be a tenured professor and I longed for people to refer to me as Dr.

At 21, three months shy of my 22nd birthday, I started an Internet Web Log called No Pasa Nada after reading an article in the New York Times about Stephanie Klein. I started this blog thing under a cloud of secrecy hoping that no one would ever find out. Ever. And if anyone dared to mention said site I would shrug and say that I had no idea what they were speaking of and then I’d erase their memory just like in Men in Black. This just in: Clearly, I have yet to achieve PhD status as noted by threatening to go all alien catcher on someones ass. I mean really. But dude you can totally erase someones memory, I saw it once. Let me show you.

I started No Pasa Nada because at 21 I was fucking miserable. I mean everyday I would wake up and curse life and adulthood and why I had to age. I had a bad case of Peter Pan complex if I’ve ever seen one. I made no money and I spent evenings drinking the worst wine known to man and when I look at my W-9 from 2005 vs. 2010 I’m like HOW ON EARTH DID I EAT? I think the Men in Black mind eraser erased that part where I started prostituting for grocery money.

This site was to be a chronicle of my foray into adulthood; a precarious and emotional time that most everyone goes through but no one ever acknowledges. There are millions of How To books on parenting, marriage, finances but none that teaches you how to live without that protective cover of parents or a college. Nothing that teaches how to do something on your own. It makes sense though, when you think about it; there cannot be a book that teaches you how to live and how to make mistakes and how to recover from said mistakes, these are things that one must learn on their own. So the blog was here for me to chronicle the whole sordid affair from every hangover to every moment where I felt worthwhile at my work. My site was my safety net as I navigated the shark infested waters of early adulthood and it was nice to have people out there who shouted ‘Amen’.

I’m currently 27. Being clueless is no longer charming and adorable but a nuisance. And this isn’t about how much wiser and/or more brilliant and/or more able to keep my mouth shut every once in awhile but to say that I am a person and as a person I evolve and change and what once was is no longer. It’s one of the beautiful things about life that with each year we have the ability to grow and flourish. I no longer feel the need to write about my every displeasure or about the harshness of being an adult. Why? Because I am an adult but there is no longer that merciless tugging of my heart strings or panic each time something goes wrong. Or perhaps when those things do happen I deal accordingly in real life and not on the page. I have learned that a career path can be forged just by asking and wanting and that bills need to be paid but shoes can also be bought. I’ve learned those little things that keep me from going into hysterics if my car doesn’t turnover (P.S. my car won’t turnover, I called AAA, it’s not the battery but the starter. Riveting). I’ve become more willing to accept things and if they can be changed, then God-willing, I will make every attempt for change.

This site won’t be what it was before and for that I am grateful. I am interested in different things – redesigning my apartment, doing projects for Poliogue, finishing my book proposal, taking more photos, showing you what I wore – and that is ok. And it is that way because I have long come to peace with the person I am now versus the person I was in late 2005. Clearly I’m still loquacious or else this could have ended long ago but I will tell you what brought me to writing about this point in my life. 1) My personal life is too complicated and intertwined with the personal lives of others. I feel like I need to be more respectful of the lives of my friends rather than page views. 2) This article on Heather Armstrong in the New York Times Magazine, more specifically the comments. Ooooh, boy, the comments. People are livid that Heather and Jon have the audacity to change and thrive as people, a business, a family and a couple. God forbid Heather not share things the way she used to. Brief digression to say that I am totally enamored by her design posts and I keep asking her to come to Albany and do my GD apartment because OMFucking ugly. Never mind that there are new people in her life that she must think about before putting words upon a page. It made me angry on her behalf that people could be so callous and forget that these are people with lives of their own.

At 21 I would have told you that I feared change (also; death and taxes). At 27 I welcome it with open arms. I want to do more and do things a little differently. At 21 I would have hoped for acceptance from anyone and anyone. At 27 I accept it which is good enough for me.