Choosing The Life I Want


I am obsessed with 20-something year-old girl’s memoirs.  Molly Crabapple’s “Drawing blood,” (which I guess, technically, she is older now, but not in the book); Marina Keegan’s “The Opposite of Loneliness,” (she is dead, but died at 22);           Lena Dunham’s “Not that kind of girl,” (actually, I haven’t read that one yet, because an early chapter freaked me out a little, but I still plan to); Melissa Broder’s “So sad today” (Ok, I just started that one and i actually have no idea how old she is).

This is probably not good that I still relate to 20-something/millennial generation memoirs. 

And how did they get enough life experience to write a memoir, or “book of essays” (or whatever) anyway?  While I am here on my fourth blog entry at like 37 years old?  Surely my drug-fueled, loose life has been more interesting?

Further, my former grad school’s email service sent me an email today-“Hello and congratulations on the successful completion of your degree, and beginning the next chapter of your career!”  Thank you, MavMail, for mocking me and the fact that I have done very little with my women’s studies master degree in the last seven years.

Fiancé and I are re-watching (for me) and watching for the first time (for him) “Buffy the vampire slayer,” and have gotten to season 6, a stand-along episode in which Buffy thinks she is in a mental institution and is told she has been there for the last 6 years.  Her whole life has been a delusion, “no she is not a vampire slayer because that’s crazy.”  First of all, this really fucked with me. I mean, I didn’t really remember this episode, or apparently take it seriously previously; but, this makes me feel like well, is that it, this whole show has been a delusion?  I mean, really?!  The episode ends (and is seriously unclear about which world is the delusion) in which Buffy decides to live in the world in which she is the slayer, but I wonder if it is a little like my whole life.  Maybe this is all one delusion.  Maybe I am not really unemployed, not-really-using any degree; but then again, maybe I just need to choose to life the life I want.

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