#LIFEGOALS + CHICKEN NUGGETS
Five hours until I arrive in Portland. I’m in the air, it’s defo a preferred time to think & reflect. My big sister is having a baby in February, and we’re celebrating with a shower on Sunday. Holy dfgdfsgfdsggahhhh. She’s going to be a mom. And I an aunt! Pretty special to see her enter this new phase in her life. Over the last two years, she’s truly grown into her own, and I think motherhood will suit her. (also: shout out to my sis for not judging me on any of the ridiculous shit I do).
I’ve been envisioning what her life will be like in two years, five years, even ten. She’s about to have another human to look after, and that will come with stability, yes, but also more serious, responsible life choices. Selfless ones.
Meanwhile, selfish sally’s over here granting herself an adulthood hall pass (as my pals call it). I get to roam the streets of new york unabashedly wreaking havoc. Zero accountability for the most part. Sometimes I skip showering just because I can. I eat cold pizza for bfast at 1pm on my sofa. Oh, and let’s not forget that I spend every last dime I make on myself. Rent, clothes, trips (omg so many trips), fancy $100 dinners by myself at the bar. Whatever I damn well please. Everything is centered around me. And it’s kinda sorta really fun, and rather indulgent.
But you know that feeling when you’re killin’ it on the dance floor or laughing so hard your face hurts over a slow dinner in a noisy restaurant? And then all of a sudden you look around and, gulp. Everyone’s gone home. Is that what I’m nearing? I just sent out 35 baby shower invitations, and I can accurately confirm I am the only attendee who isn’t married with a kid. But I keep thinking, maybe it doesn’t have to be so black and white.
I’ve always been one to do things on my own time and in my own way. It’s plausible one day I’ll wake up, decide I’m done with these hall pass shenanigans, and/or do life with another person and we’ll go forth with said conventional thingz. But I have a list of little-big stuff I value and don’t ever want to lose sight of. Sure, maybe the cookies-chicken nuggets-bacon diet isn’t sustainable, but I do have non-negotiables. So let’s think of this as a circa 2015 version of the time-travel box I buried in Jessica Harris’ parents backyard at our high school graduation BBQ. As I did when I read that letter I wrote myself 10 years ago, I wonder if older/more responsible me will someday laugh hysterically at how foolish I was authoring this letter…while breastfeeding my evil androgynous ginger twins from the comfort of my hippie mansion overlooking Mt Tam:
Dear old af Amy Glimmer,
Here are your life #goals you’re not supposed to forget. 30 yo you thinks they’re pretty damn important:
- Travel. Little trips, big trips. All of the trips. You learned something new about how you experience the world every time you've traveled.
- Lolz. Make other people laugh. Laugh at yourself. See the humor in daily life. AKA no wet blankets allowed (or wilted lettuce, as the Brits say).
- Outdoors. Play outside — go exploring, take a hike, run a bridge, just GET OUTSIDE. Nature is freeing.
- Give. Put more good out in the universe than you take. Even when it’s hard.
- Take. Meet people and learn from them. Read. Be an information sponge.
- Change. Your professional purpose is a big piece of your happiness pie. Make sure you’re a) doing something you care about and b) you’re changing people’s lives in some manner.
- Self. Don’t lose it. Protect a few things, big or small that keep you grounded in you sense of self (currently: running, bubble baths, writing & solo dates)
PS — tonight for dinner, you had a glass of whisky, chicken strips w buffalo sauce & Twizzlers. So there’s that.