What I would Tell Myself at 18

Have you ever thought about if you could back and do something over again? Stupid question. I know, I know. Everyone has thought about this, even those self-righteous people who claim to live with "no regrets".  I have made a lot of mistakes in my lifetime.  Almost 27 years of acting wild, crazy and like consequencse do not matter.  However,  I am finally at a place in my life where I feel that things are okay. Not great, not perfect, just okay. And, I am fine with that! 100% fine with that.  After five years of feeling like I was headed nowhere and that life was passing me by, I finally feel at peace. 

Now to reflect back on how I got here, I must think back to being 18 years old.  If I could go back to that time in my life and shake my  18 year old know-it-all self, I would.  I would probably smack myself so damn hard for being so stupid and not taking advantage of the opportunities in front of me.  Here is what I would tell myself:

1. Don't turn down a great opportunity. 

I turned 18 right before I graduated high school.  I turned 18 right around the time I declined to go to the University of Miami, University of Alabama and various other prestigous schools.  Why did I do that?  Well that answer I tell most people is that I had the HOPE scholarship in Georgia, which meant I could go to any public university in Georgia FOR FREE. Now, that is in part the right answer, but there were other issues.

The opportunity to go to school, out of state and away from my comfort zone is something I always regret not taking.  Someone once told me that you never regret the things you do, but only the things you never did.  It is wasn't until recently I realized that this is so true no matter how cliched.  At 18 I thought I could do it all and accomplish my dreams. At 26 almost 27, I realize that I am getting older and time is running out to squeeze in everything I want to do before I settle down with mini me's and a hubby (if and when that ever happens).  I probably think about how my life would have been different if I had gone to The U about 100 times a day. I often focus on how I probably would be somewhere tropical speaking Spanish and well-traveled by now.  Not to say I don't enjoy where I am at and that I am not afraid of the accomplishments I have made, but I didn't take an opportunity to change my life and it forever changed the course of my life. 

Now here is where I would really scream, kick and attack my 18 year old self (lesson 2)...

 2.  When you grow-up you finally realize that people will never act or do what you want them to do, no matter how hard you try.

I had the opportunity to go away to a wonderful school almost free and I held back because I was afraid.  I was afraid that my boy would dump me or not be able to handle a long-distance relationship.  I was afraid of leaving the comfort of what I knew and what I was use to having.  I was in love or at least I thought I was with someone who would forever change my life.  I didn't want to leave this person knowing good and well that it would be the end of our relationship.   See,  what I realize now is that whether I had gone to Miami or not, the boy and I were never meant to work out.  I am an ambitious, never happy with static situations person.  He is in the same place he was almost ten years ago and that will probably never change.  No matter how hard I wanted things to become a fairytale, I couldn't change him.  You can't change people, but when you are 18 you think you can change the world and everyone in it.  The first part is true, the second is a hard lesson to learn until you have been around the block as many times as I have with ill-fated relationships. 

3.  Don't get into debt.

Here is where I would really just smack the holy living guacamole out of 18 year old me.  Don't get yourself into debt is something we hear a lot of these days and it is great advice.  I didn't actually get a credit card until I was about 20 years old.  I worked a few jobs at a time and made relatively good money, but once I realized that I needed (or at least thought I needed stuff) I started spending more than I should have.  I rarely saved money and spent most of it on things I couldn't afford.  I didn't spend money on great trips around the world or experiences, I spent it on stuff.  Half of that stuff is probably at a Goodwill or landfill by now.  Don't get me wrong, I had a lot of fun in those years, but now I am a slave to my debt because of that fun and all the materialistic things that went with having fun.  I would love to tell 18 year old me that being in your late twenties with a mountain of debt, a low credit score and nothing to show for it- well, it sucks. It sucks hard.  Now I can't afford much of what I want because I have bills and needs and ususally there isn't much leftover for fun after those needs are paid for with my hard work. Debt has ruined part of my life.  Strong words I know, but if I wasn't in massive debt, I would be less stressed and probably consider my life fanfreakintastic.

4.  Do what you love for the rest of your life.

When you are 18, you rarely know what you want to do for the rest of your life.  You are more concerned with partying, boyfriends and a new designer purse than you are with deciding what it is that you want to do forever to be happy forever.  I know a couple people who came out of the womb knowing what they wanted to do.  A prime example is my friend Ashley.  Her parents will tell you since she was 5 years old she wanted to be a doctor and help people.  Low and behold, Ashely is an extremely successful Physicians Assistant who is happy and is happy serving others.

Now back to the point,  I would tell 18 year old me not to pick a major because it sounds impressive, uses corporate buzzowords and the advisers tell you it is a good fit.  Those same advisers told me to be a shrink and I barely passed Psychology 101.  The point is, while I am grateful for my Marketing degree I am also melancholy about the fact that I never pursued my passion in school.  I wanted to make sure I was in the business program to please my dad and I wanted to pick a safe bet.  Too bad my "safe bet" wasn't so safe when the economy collapsed the same time I graduated with a BBA.  Suddenly all those Marketing positions were no longer around and my degree was barely worth the paper it was printed on. 

I did have a job throughout those late years of college.  I was a make-up artist and happy as a clam doing that.  I love makeup artistry.  It is something that I have loved my whole life and had I known at 18 what I now know at 26, well lets just say I would have taken a different route.  I still would have gone to college (maybe U of M), but my focus would have been on something that tied directly to my passion to create beautiful things out of beautiful canvases.  Perhaps I would have even done chemical or biological engineering so I would be able to create make-up for one of the companies I admire.  Who knows?  It is not a regret per say, but rather advice to follow your heart and your passion.  Do what you love and you will be happy.

So What Are Your Weekend Plans?

I really hate this question. I don't mind if my close, dear friends ask me what my intended plans are for the weekend, but I hate when my boss asks me this.  I don't want to reveal my secrets.  I want to cherish the approximately 48 hours that I am not obligated to respond to you. I also, for lack of any other way to put, don't want you to know what I am doing.

No, I am not planning on getting arrested or committing an act of treason. No, I simply don't care to share with you what I intend to do. I could simply plan (which is usually the case) to lay around all day long and think about life. I could be planning on watching the Sex and The City marathon that E network shows all day on Saturdays.

The point is, I am going to make up some incredulous tale of what my weekend plans are and I am going to make sure it is nothing like what I really have planned. I just hate the question, "So what are you weekend plans?" 

I hate this question sooooooo much that I have come to the conclusion that I need an obligatory response. So, I have decided to have a generic script that goes as follows:
First, I plan on stopping by Quik Trip on my way home.  I will then purchase a twenty-four pack of Natural Ice beer, seven scratch off tickets and one philly blunt.  I will also grab a buffalo chicken stick and an orange fanta.

Next, when I arrive at my castle I plan on running a half marathon.  I will run in nothing but a wife beater and a pair of denim cut-offs.  I also plan on tweeting the same time as I run.

Finally, I will spend the next 48 hours locked in my casa doing nothing but consuming copious amounts of cheap beer and watching Anderson 360 on my DVR. I don't plan on bathing or changing clothing articles.

Yes, those are my plans for the weekend. And yes, I am serious.

Unicorns and Hard Work

Anyone that knows Thug Scout knows I love Unicorns.  I have always been obsessed with them.  I watched The Last Unicorn for hours and hours as a child.  I loved it because it was very macob and magical all at the same time.

Getting to the point...I have been in a rut for the past few years.  When I graduated college I had no plans except a)have fun and b) pay off debt.  What I didn't realize is that a does not equal b nor are they positively correlated.  The more fun I had (and ask anyone about Thug Scout's adventures circa 2008 and beyond and they'll ask if you've seen the hangover) the more debt I accrewed.

I was stupid, sure. I was suddenly an adult, single and naieve.  I thought that the day you graduate college there are companies lining up to employ you and asking you to be creative.  Well, I graduated May 2008 around the same time the housing bubble popped, Obama started "Change" and well everything went to hell in a handbasket.  Unfortunately for me,  I didn't have a backup plan.

I worked for CAM Cosmetics (Name has been changed to protect those evil gremlins) and I made great money.  I thought that I would become CEO one day and run the most prestigous cosmetics company in the world.  I worked hard, but rarely was rewarded for it.  I met a boy who would change my life.  I didn't have it all and I knew it, but I WAS HAVING FUN.

Fast forward two years, I was wrongfully terminated and the boy of my dreams dumped me on Valentines day. My world fell apart.  I began the painful process of not knowing who I was and not knowing how to find who I was.  I still loved unicorns though. No matter what evil lay ahead of them they always won.  I used that scenario (as eight year old of a perspective as it is) to fight.  I went to therapy. A lot. I landed a new job with the help of a former friend and I thought I was on the right path. Unciron horn guiding the way. 

But...life is no fairy tale or poorly animted Unicorn tale.  I have found myself feeling more sad, lonely at time and miserable more than I even want to admit.  I feel like my life has no direction and every time I gain a foot, God sends me back a mile.  Now, no, no,no! Do not think I want pity.  I have my health (most of it anyways thanks to years of smoking cancer sticks, which with the help of a loved one I finally quit) and I have a boy, GB.

GB had it rough growing up. He doesn't tell me a lot and he doesn't open up (imagine that a boy not opening up), but he does have a good perspective.  He worked his ass off and has a job doing what he loves and making good money.  He reminds me that hard work does produce results. But, why oh why hasn't my hard work paid off? What the hell am I doing wrong. Why hasn't a hot pink Unicorn appeared (well a plush one did for my birthday)?

Answer- I have to put on the big girl underoos and figure as the homies say, "Ish", out. I know I want to do something creative and fun and travel. I want a pony or a Unicorn, whichever is less costly. I know I want the GB to ask me to marry him someday and have little GBs.  I know none of this is going to happen until I become the person God wants me to be. Right now, he's been telling me hot pink and glitter are my answers.  I just wish I knew the questions...

The Randomn Swat Team Practice

So I decided that as part of my 2011 "improve thug scout" regimine, that I would start working-out.  This sounds simple enough.  With the exception of my drinking, smoking, and intense desire to eat as much fried food before thirty that I possibly can, it would be.  I, however, am one  of those people who has to be shot in the ass by the AK-47 of life before I make any decision.  Working-out doesn't sound like a tough decision, but when you factor my nine to ten hour workday, my boyfriend, and the fact that I am as broke as window in the ghetto-well you get it.  Working-out isn't as simple as those drill sergeants on "Biggest Loser" make it out to be.

This is where I get to the point.  I decided that on my lunch break everyday I would do some sort of physical activity.  The weather here in Thug Scout Land has been beautiful lately and wouldn't you know there is a park near my office.  The park is not like any other that I have ventured into.  It appears to be a clandestine offshoot of the property near an old abandonded Jewish school.  I love the Jewish people (they are God's chosen people after all) and I figured the park would be a safe place to run/powerwalk/leisurely listen to Deathcab for Cutie for thirty minutes. 

So I venture to said park.  I begin to stroll, boyfriend's old iphone in hand as a substitute for music and I notice what appears to be a gaggle of well-armed polic officers.  I see them scaling down walls, shooting their guns and participating in what appear to be a reenactment of the 80s holiday favourite "Christmas Vacation" house raiding scene.  Now, instead of running back to my car or finding a place to duck-and-cover, I do what most people would do when weapons are being fired and attack dogs are lined up. I try to call my mom.  Naturally, at this point of intense excitement in my life, Judy does not answer.  She often complains I never answer my phone, but she calls when I am at work, in the middle of a labatomy or sex.  I assume she is participating in the second activity as option one and option three are more likely than santa claus coming down my chimney and hand-delivering a newborn African baby to me.

I am in such a panic by the fact that I don't have anyone else to call about this event in my history that I continue to run while keeping my head cocked to the left and staring down this police scene all together.  After pulling a muscle staring down the scene, I quickly realize that the officers are participating in training.  I find this out by reading the large sign that states "Police Officer Training".  I am a genius.

The best part about the whole incident is the girl walking her dog in front of me.  She is around my age, very pretty but immediately I can tell she is one of "those" girls.  She is wearing very short shorts, has her hair down, and is walking her doberman with a large, spikey collar.  Now, what does this enable me to conclude.  Well, I wear short shorts too so that just makes me think.  Second, she has her long hair down at the park walking a dog when its seventy-five degrees out.  Unless you are doing a photo shoot for Hawaiian Tropic, who wears their hair down for excercise/walking the dog? Third, only girls that are 100% complete attention whores have giant dobermans with large spikey collars.  I have a general rule.  If you are a young female walking a giant dog breed usually reserved for junkyard protection or biting legs of intruders, then you are really just trying to garnish male attention with your mutt.  That is it.  Now, I happen to have a pit (or my parents do, but we did coexsist at one point) and there is not one part of me that thought "Hey wouldn't it be cool if I put a brass knuckle looking collar on Buddy and pranced around the park because that will look totally harmless", but hey to each his own.

Now, this girl, we shall refer to her as "I don't have any girl friends because I get along better with guys" kept walking past the same area where the cops were scaling down walls and shooting firearms.  She wasn't just walking by, but rather she appeared to be doing "suicide drills" that involved running the lenth of the cops periphreal view.  "I don't have any girl friends because I get along better with guys" kept looking to see if cops were noticing, which made me keep looking at her with the look of pure admiration and disgust.  Now, if  "I don't have any girl friends because I get along better with guys" had spent time tracking down the training schedule and roster for the county and knew that this training was going on and purposefully came with Kujo for the purpose of picking up a dude, well kudos to her.

Me-  I just skulked back to my car and slowly drove off while watching "I don't have an girl friends because I get along better with guys" did her 100th trek past the officers.