20 going on 84?

11:50 pm on Thursday night: I'm running to catch the train into the city. With much thanks to my lovely room mate, my suitcase full of power tools and I caught the 11:52 train by the skin of my teeth. It had been so long since I had been in the city that I was a bit anxious. Much of that anxiety was because I was traveling though.

Now, I don't know if you've ever tried to navigate your way through the big bad streets of New York by yourself with luggage, but it's not fun. Christmas break of freshman year there was a HUGE blizzard and everything was hectic, and I was lugging my suitcase, my bookbag, my violin, and my purse. Some very kind and annoyed people helped me carry my suitcase up and down the stairs in Penn.) Thankfully, Thursday night wasn't so bad. It only took me a few minutes to find the stairway out of Penn that would point me to the Megabus stop, which was much closer than I anticipated.

I sat on my luggage and admired the city while waiting for my 1:30am bus to pull up. I remember being in high school and thinking I could live in New York forever. I loved it. I loved the energy. Most of all, I've come to realize that I loved the anonymity of it. You can walk through New York for days without ever so much as making eye contact with anyone. As I contemplated the skyscrapers and the light pollution, I realized I don't want this anymore. I don't want to be anonymous. What used to excite me now overwhelms me. The city is loud. It's bright and it kind of smells funky.

I'm a little disappointed. I'm so close, finally, so close to the city. I'm so close to everything I had wanted and now I don't want it anymore. What gives? Story of my life.

Teachers and adults always told me I was a mature child. Old for my age, I guess. Looking back, I went through all the typical phases, but I seemed to have gone through them before everyone else. Maybe I just got over them faster. In sixth grade I remember wanting to wear tripp pants and dye my hair green. However, I knew this would upset my mother and I had no money of my own to buy these things. By the time I was in junior high and high school I had the means but had lost the desire. At this point I wanted to go out. I wanted to dance and party. I was too young to get in anywhere and no means of transportation. Freshman year of college I had freedom but I was over the party scene. I wasn't really interested anymore. Now, I'm a junior in college. What do I want to do now? Now, I want to pay my own bills. I want a real job. I want to not live paycheck to paycheck. I want to support myself and live a steady life with my crafts. I want to cook and decorate and do yoga. When I talk about what I do in my free time, I sound more like a soccer mom than a college kid. I'm not even old enough to drink and I'm over it. WTF? Sometimes I feel gipped out of my phases.

Regardless, I'm somehow ok with this. It's funny that I've spent the last couple of months trying to figure what my style is and what I like, but I've kind of known all along.