In a week, I will be moving at of my parent's home and into a confined, bleached white room that is filled by two single beds. There are sixteen such rooms centered around one group bathroom. This an experience known as "dorm life" and I'm really looking forward to it.
Apparently, I'm moving into my formative adult years, so I must be leaving childhood behind. It's one of those if a then b then c - I don't buy it. But staying on point, I'm ending one era and beginning another. So normally, if I understand it correctly, now is the time I look back wistfully on my youth wishing I'd done x, y, and z. But that's stupid. I'm stuck with the memories I have, so why wish for ones I don't? So here some things I'm glad I didn't do.
I'm glad I didn't eat in moderation at Disney On Ice when I was a six-year-old. Maybe my parents were peeved that I hurled rainbow vomit all over the family room after, but I've never regretted my vomit or it's rainbow.
I'm glad I didn't wear the same clothes that other four-year-olds wore. While they were wearing their Osh Kosh overalls I was sporting the green tights, pointy hat, and cardboard dagger of Peter Pan. If I wasn't wearing my Peter Pan costume, I was wearing "That" shirt. "That" shirt has red, blue, black, and white horizontal lines with a red collar. It is the second ugliest thing, next to the bucket of rainbow puke (see above).
I'm glad my dad didn't uphold his vow that, "no son of mine will ever play soccer." Haha - that stands well on its own.
I'm glad I didn't grow out of watching cartoons. There's nothing quite like watching Batman Saturday morning in your PJs....when you're 18.
I'm glad I never read Harry Potter. I have a rule: If the word "muggle" is mentioned anywhere in the text then I won't read it. Come to think of it, "muggle" isn't even a word. Hm, that really only compounds my issues with JK Rowling.
While my issues with JK Rowling will undoubtedly go unresolved, several other literary issues have been resolved. Like my issues with Jane Austen. I'm glad I didn't play the "manliness" card and went forward with reading Pride and Prejudice. I'm also glad I didn't stop reading poetry after Shel Silverstein....this also applies to, Emily Dickenson, Billy Collins, Rumi, Rafi (I still listen to Rafi sometimes alright?), TS Eliot, Robert Frost, William Faulkner, and whoever keeps writing on the bathroom mirror at Caribou.
I'm glad I didn't listen to those who told me I'd never make a living as an artist. I believe it was Archimedes who said, "What now fool?"
I'm glad I didn't stop finger-painting, eating at McDonalds, or watching Full House.
I'm super glad I didn't claim the North Pole. That would have probably bummed out Russia, and that probably would have meant I couldn't eat sushi anymore.
And the one thing I am truly grateful I didn't do was buy Kevin Federline's album...or go to Ron Mexico's birthday party/dogfight...oh and watch Deal Or No Deal.
Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to the midnight premiere of Becoming Jane.