Any time I am faced with some sort of grand transition in my life, I can't help but try to take stock of where I've been and what I've done. The last time I really had to worry about this was last summer before I went to Florida. It was almost shocking to look at everything that had happened in recent years and realize that by age 21, I had done everything I had ever wanted to do.
- Work in Disney World, check!
I've been working there since 2008, so that was nothing new. I drive a boat around in circles, tell bad jokes, wear a lot of khaki, and make magic for other people. This is also a cop-out way to get the sub-goal of professional comedian out of the way. After all, being a professional anything means you’re paid to do it.
- Play Beatrice in Much Ado about Nothing, check!
Since that had been a goal since 1993 or so, the audition went off without a hitch. On the way to the audition, I had car trouble on the toll road, I had a phone fight with an ex (get poisonous influences out of my life, check!), and narrowly avoided a panic attack. It helped with the method acting portion, I guess. When I finally arrived at the audition, I took out my piece of paper with my scrawled out monologue and read with all of the oomph that I had used when I practiced in my bedroom when I was home alone. I had never been so relieved to say the words, “I would eat his heart in the marketplace” in my life. I'm pretty sure that people down the hall heard how much I wanted to kill Claudio, and they trembled in terror (at least that's what I'd like to think happened. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it). After the fiver performances, however, there was a nice, big void the size of one of Benedick's monologues. Awesome.
- Go to Europe, check!
I spent spring break in Germany and France my sophomore year of high school. I kept a running tally of all the hot guys I saw (it's probably in my closet somewhere), geeked out over the history and culture (but mostly the bread... foodies on vacation. It's an issue). The best part, however, was probably going to Euro Disney and having some French teenagers flash the camera during the picture on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. Needless to say, my mom wanted to buy the picture, but the nice man behind the counter said it was filthy and too stereotypically French.
- Have something published, check!
I wrote a crappy poem about my dog once, sent it in to some magazine, and it was published. I actually got $35 for it. The fun thing about that story is that the poem was written in Spanish (Spanish rhymes easier than English). I wasn’t published again until the writing contest at school last semester. That time, it was actually in English. It wasn’t a big publication, sure, but again, the qualification for tacking the word professional onto anything is getting money for it.
- Live like the Boxcar Children, check!
Who wouldn’t want to live like one of the Boxcar Children? After everything went wrong on my first day back in six months, I got to be homeless in Disney World for a month. I learned how to couch surf if I wanted some sort of bed, find electrical outlets when I needed them, and take showers on Disney property where I wouldn’t be bothered (you’d be shocked at how important it is to shower in peace. There are some places on Disney property where I would never shower.). I learned how to live on $20 a week, how to sneak slushies to cast members, how to use public transportation, how to never wait in lines, and how to never pay for drinks (magical Disney resort mugs and complimentary water. Those are the real best kept secrets in Disney World. You don’t see signs advertising mugs and free water, do you? Absolutely not.)… Granted, I didn’t actually have a boxcar. I didn’t have any siblings with me. I didn’t have a blue cup, and I never solved any mysteries. All the same, it was definitely one of the most epic things I’ve ever done.
When I started writing this, I had to wonder if I really had everything done. It seemed too easy. After realizing that I only had about five goals to speak of, I figured it was time to look through old photo albums and see if there was anything I had missed.
There were plenty of pictures of me growing up in Disney World and even of me excitedly waiting in line for the Jungle Cruise. There weren’t any pictures of me putting on a production of Much Ado about Nothing with my Barbies, but it is safe for everyone to assume that it actually happened. There were certainly pictures from Germany and France. Me staring at Notre Dame from my seat on a tour bus, my family and our exchange student eating breakfast in Germany, a rooster wandering around Euro Disney
—also, this is neither here nor there, but I had an epiphany! Maybe Euro Disney has chickens the way Disney World has ducks! And maybe Disneyland—since it’s in California where The Birds takes place—has crows and sea gulls. Eew... Meanwhile, back in my photo books…
There was, however, a huge part of my life that I had forgotten to include somewhere in my list of life’s ambitions: dinosaurs. There were pictures of me and dinosaur-related things all over the place. How did I forget when they covered my nursery walls, helped me understand the importance of family and tree stars, and taught me everything I knew about frog DNA? Once upon a time, I was going to find a dinosaur egg some place, incubate it, and have my very own dinosaur. If that didn’t work, then at least I would find a fossil one day. I guess there are some things that I left out. It seems a little silly now, but now that I have realized that there’s something that important that was skipped entirely, I have to fix it!
Unfortunately, seeing Sue at the Field Museum doesn’t really count as finding a dinosaur fossil. I’m going to have to take care of that at some point.
I also wanted to own a coffee shop at some point. I haven’t done that either, but by this point, I don’t really want to. My sister wants to open a vegan restaurant, and that will have to be the fruition of that dream for everybody.
I wanted to be a zookeeper back in the day, too. I wanted to be the person who took care of the big cats, stood by the enclosures answering people’s questions, watching to make sure kids didn’t run into cages (running into an animal enclosure, check! The buffaloes at the zoo did not enjoy that as much as I did.). Saying I live at a zoo right now is a bit of a stretch, but it’s been enough to make me feel like I haven’t failed at that one. While most of our family pets can be classified as farm animals, things like ferrets, a hedgehog, a parrot, hermit crabs, my tiny domesticated bob cat mix it up enough that I can fudge the data and call it a zoo.
On the other hand, there were things I did in addition to the goals I forgot to mention. I still have six months experience as a Mr. Manager. For those of you who don’t get the Arrested Development reference, that means I get to be a manager of something but only nominally. On my last day of being Mr. Manager of the Writing Center on campus, I was inches away from saying, “Squaw no gettum firewood; Squaw go home!” But since it was my last day, what would I have gained? I’ll take the six months management experience.
I’ve traveled back and forth in time (yeah, but that’s only between time zones). I’ve tried my hand at event planning. I’ve been somebody’s imaginary friend (when all the influence you really have is through text messages, you may as well be an imaginary friend. It makes enough sense to me). I’ve figured out what happy relationships look like. In case you were wondering, happy relationships don’t involve secretly hoping for the other person to die. That is actually the exact opposite of a happy relationship. I guess I still have a ways to go before I get everything done, but the list of what I have done and where I’ve been will just get longer. I can be content knowing I’ve done more than most people my age and also knowing I don’t intend to stop and let everyone else catch up. I’ll figure it out as I go, I suppose; there isn’t much else I can do.
