when did i get old.er?!

several years ago, (during one of my crises, not the self-induced ones that i’m notorious for ~ THAT time) one of my best friends once told me that we only get eighty-some years to do all the things we want with our lives, and we were already a quarter through our lives so we didn’t have time to waste. it was the kick in the butt i needed, at the time. well, that and watching the notebook…

but now, the concept of mortality is bringing me down. mostly my own…but occasionally my dad’s (more on that later). there is so much i want to do with my life. at times i get that restless, breathless feeling, like i’ll never be able to do it all, there aren’t enough years, i’m not that young anymore…where does the time go?!

i try to prioritize the things i want to do (mainly cuz i love making lists), but I know I won’t be satisfied unless I get to do them ALL. problem is, many of my ‘wants’ contradict the others.

i want to own a home. craftsman. or maybe mediterranean? a victorian gingerbread looking house, perhaps? it needs to have character. lots. (since i’ve eliminated mine by customizing my nose) and hardwood floors that shine and never make my place feel cold (i swear every home i’ve been to with hardwood floors feels cold. always). i want a porch. with a rocking chair. that i can sit and read in. i want a library filled with first editions. AND the pretty pink covered books that i love (fact: if a book cover has pink, i’ll read it. yes, i judge books by their covers…but not people. usually).

i want more time to read. and write. i want to write my memoirs…without caring if anyone ever reads them. i want everyone to read them. i want to conquer my fear of karaoke (yes, i’ve done it. yes, it was awful. yes, i’m still petrified. and yes, there is video.)

i want to see the world. i want to save the world. i want to make a difference. i want to matter. i want to have a baby, but not at the expense of losing my own identity. i want to be the girl in the story. i want to be the girl he’s singing about. i want to be girly. i don’t want to be anyone, but me. i want to find someone who makes me the best version of me that i can be. i want to reconcile my fear of relationships with the idea of forever that i’ve harbored since i was a little girl. i want to get married. i want to believe that marriage can work. i want to marry someone i’ll never get tired of talking to. i want to not care about grammar. i want to learn to forgive, completely. i want to never ever feel resentful.

i want to learn from my mistakes. i don’t want to make mistakes. i want to cure cancer. i want louboutins, pink, studded, boots ~ any kind at all! i want to not care about material things. i want to fix all your problems. i want to be there for my friends. i want to be worth it. i want to live up to my potential.

(and i want to write about it all. for me. and for you.)