Ten Years Later, and I'm Okay

I just finished watching a most horrible movie -- Since You've Been Gone -- starring some big talent like Lara Flynn Boyle, Teri Hatcher, David Schwimmer, Joey Slotnick, Jon Stewart, Jennifer Grey, Molly Ringwald, and Liev Schreiber. I wasn't looking for cinematic genius, and I didn't get it. I figured it would be one of those run-of-the-mill "you've done nothing with your life" kind of movies, and it sort of was, except that at the end the jerks from high school get their comeuppance and the geeks are the real winners.

Now? I'm watching And God Created Woman, starring Brigette Bardot -- a true film classic (although the fight scenes are so poorly done).

But back to the reflective masterpiece that was Since You've Been Gone. It got me thinking, mostly because I'm pushing my 10-year anniversary of graduating high school.

Ten. Years.

I could have several children by now, and I know some who do. Theoretically, I could have a whole clan of kids, a house, a high-paying job, a vacation home. But truth be told, I never sought any of those things.

Ten years ago, I was keen on going to the University of Nebraska-Lincoln -- after giving up my dreams of attending New York University because of cost -- and majoring in English. I was sure I'd be in the Honors Program (which I was) and that I'd live on campus (which I did). Beyond that? I had no aspirations. I wanted to be free, happy, and to write my little poet's heart out.

As a naive and hopeful 18-year-old (I was in the older end of my grade), I dreamed of moving to New York and being a poet.

A few months into my freshman year of college in 2002, I realized how silly my dreams were (much like those of my childhood -- to be an artist). My dentist, a very awesome lady in her own right, had all of her certificates hanging on her office wall, and during a visit I noticed that one of those certificates was for a bachelor's degree in ... English. The dialogue went something like this:

Me: So, you got your degree in English?
Her: Yup!
Me: So, how'd you become a dentist?
Her (laughing): Well, I realized very quickly after graduating that I couldn't do anything with a bachelor's in English, so I went back to school and became a dentist. 

Well, that sealed the deal for me! My freshman honors seminar was in journalism, so after speaking with my adviser and my professor, I quickly switched over to a bachelor's in journalism, specifically in copy editing (aka News Editorial) and fell quickly in with the crowd working a million hours a week at the student newspaper. Within moments my deal as a copy editor was sealed.

My aspirations changed: I would become a copy editor for a major daily newspaper in the U.S. and be an awesome Jewess in the process.

And I actually accomplished this goal! With a job at The Washington Post after graduating college, I was set, but incredibly unhappy. I picked up, I moved, I attempted to figure out what I wanted to do. I ended up in Chicago working for a Devil Wears Prada-style professor of Economics, discovered my inner Orthodox neshama and?

Another flip: I wanted to go to graduate school to become a professor of Judaic Studies. So I jetted off to Connecticut, got a master's degree in my field, and then, again, was unhappy and unsure what I wanted to do.

A quick change: I would get another degree, this time in education, and teach Hebrew language to youngsters in Jewish day schools in the U.S. So I moved to New York, started up at NYU, and was, within an instant, unsatisfied with the program and my aspirations. And off I was to Colorado, where I am now.

Over time, Social Media became a strength of mine. I dream of moving to Israel and becoming part of some kind of translation and grammar commission, fixing signs the country over for consistency and authenticity. I dream of becoming a well-known slam poet, not just a blogger. I dream of writing, always, the things for which I hold a great passion. I dream of being me, mostly.

Oddly enough, I'm not disappointed in where I have gone and what I have experienced in the past 10 years. In fact, I'm quite proud of everything I have experienced. Many loves, many lost. Many jobs, many addresses. Many cities, four trips to Israel. I bought my first bed, my first car. I found G-d, I found out pieces of mystery regarding myself.

Ten years. I feel like I should feel older and more settled than I do right now, but that's not my style -- it never has been. I was the first of my friends to move away, the wild and unexpected one. As my father says, I'm a free spirit. As much as I've tried to tie myself down, it just isn't in my nature.

I will always write, sing, drink, dance, and speak in ways that make me feel free and liberated. The guilt that I should feel, I suppose for the ups and downs, highs and lows, and promises I've made to myself and others is nonexistent. I live my life as though I am in control, and ten years after I accepted that control upon myself, I am proud to have rediscovered it.

So: Are you where you thought you'd be 10 years ago? Where you were when you were a senior in high school and the world was your oyster? 

Things You Might Not Know About Me! Part I

I don't know what spawned this, but I'm trying to catalog things about myself that people might not know about me. I like to maintain a human atmosphere here so you all know that I'm a real person living a normal life. I like to douse my tomatoes in salt, eat cold apple crisp, organize my clothes in my closet by color, and I prefer black pens over any other color (except red when I'm editing). So here are some other, perhaps more deeply meaningful, things you might not know about me. 

That's me, yes. On the right. With my Momma Brady haircut, circa my senior year of highschool 2001-2002. On the left is one of my oldest friends, Christina, and the guy in the middle? I forgot his name. He went to Norris High School, which is there in the background, and actually was mostly destroyed during Tornadoes in 2007. We're all supporting LNE quiz bowl team shirts, since we were at a quiz bowl tournament! I was a geek. I still am. I was the "random knowledge" guru. 

In high school, I gave one of three graduation speeches while standing before my class of 525 students in Lincoln, Nebraska. My school was gigantic, but luckily only 20 some students tried out for the graduation speech spots. If I remember correctly, the dual validictorians got speeches, and the other went to a lucky winner. I tried my temporary speech out in a classroom one day after school and was lucky enough to get chosen. I wish I could remember where my speech is, as I know it's on a computer somewhere in the Edwards family home. It might also be in one of my high school boxes with all the random homework and papers I'd kept. I should find it. It was written in poem form and touched on everyone in the class, from jocks to choir nerds to academic decathalon nerds to the drama geeks. Why? Because during high school I was privileged to run in all of those crowds. You see, I played volleyball my freshman year and was the team manager my sophomore year. I was in choir every year of high school, and I managed the Math Club as secretary for two or three years. I served on Academic Decathalon and Quiz Bowl for three years, and I also found my way into the Model UN and about a half-dozen other clubs. Contrary to a lot of people, I loved high school. So standing up, before all of my friends and people I'd never even seen in school before, I told about my experiences. As a surprise ending, I closed with something my father always says to me -- and he had no idea it was in the speech, which left him speechless. The quote: "Life is not a problem to solve, but a reality to experience."

Also, during that same graduation, I had the leading off solo for Concert Choir. We were singing R. Kelly's "The World's Greatest," and after years of just singing in the choir, I finally stood out senior year with my belting voice. You see, I can't sing good quietly, but if you give me enough room and volume, and I could rock your world. I guess I just have that kind of a voice -- sing loud, sing proud. So I landed the opening verses: "I am a mountain, I am a tall tree, ohhhh, I am a swift wind, sweepin' the country." Now, that's just a few small verses, but the soul I got to punch into them empowered me. I guess, if anything, R. Kelly's craziness aside, those verses sort of expressed who I wanted to be and who I saw myself as. But singing those words, jamming with friends, and having people -- years later remind me of that solo -- makes me feel good.

I've started about seven different versions of a book on my life. They're all really cheesy and ridiculous. I watch friend-bloggers nab book deals about their life, about their conversion stories, and I feel like my story is just lame. I feel like it's weak. I didn't grow up in an abusive household, I'm not a minority, I'm not the product of some kind of oppressive family that forced Christianity or Islam or something else down my throat. Then again, I also had no inspiration from people or experiences to choose Judaism. Someday I'll write my story. Someday. I just want to inspire others.

I love to drink pickle juice. Yes, you heard me right. My mom used to pack me a Tupperware with pickles for lunch when I was a kid and she'd always pour in a bunch of extra juice and I'd drink it while making my tiny classmates gag. We're talking first grade here, folks. I still do this, however. I think I make Tuvia gag!