Cake Walking

I don't understand why the term "cake walk" is usually used when referring to something being easy when there is nothing simple about winning an actual cake in such a walk. I speak from experience after participating in two hours of cake-walking today and winning only once. Despite the fact I never got the pineapple upside down cake that had my name all over it, I did get several miles of exercise.

I took my little sister to an outdoor fall festival today and we had a blast. However, I found myself addicted to the cake walk. It wasn't a typical cake walk, requiring the purchase of tickets and such, but rather a free game to win baked goodies. Little sis won SEVEN times! I was so happy for her. She won some real yummies, too, including two pumpkin cakes and a giant chocolate fudge brownie decorated with various flavors of icing. I was pretty sure she was getting sick of the cake walk, though, but I kept saying, "Okay. Just one more time?" But I also told her several times that we could move on to something else when she was ready, so I didn't feel too bad.

As I am sitting here at home on a Saturday night, little sis is off to her first fall dance. I helped her get ready, which was so much fun. It brought back so many memories of how excited I used to get for formal events. It also made me realize I MUST have a little girl someday to live through vicariously.

Oh yeah...and another strange thing. Approximately four years ago, I was given a necklace by someone who was/is a big part of my life. However, I put the necklace away when I decided to marry Steve (just a few weeks after receiving it). I've been looking for it since the autumn of 2002, and this evening when I was pouring out eyeliners I'd put away in a cosmetic bag, out popped the necklace. I almost cried. It is a "past, present, future" necklace with three diamonds representing each stage of our relationship. Though the giver has not been a "direct" part of my life in a long time, I am so grateful to have found this token that represents something incredibly special.

Dad called first thing this morning, just wanting to chat. I thought this was weird, but he started a new job this week, and since he's on third shift, his timing is screwy. He didn't think anything of calling me at 8am, which was weird because we used to live by the 9-9 rule: No calls after 9pm and no calls before 9am. We ended up having a pretty good talk, though, getting in depth about some serious issues. This is a rarity for my father and I's conversations, but it was pretty cathartic to discuss some things that I otherwise keep to myself or talk about solely with Meg.

One such thing we talked about that I'm having a hard time with right now is being an adult. You know, a grown-up. When you're a kid, there is always something to look forward to--always something on the calendar; a holiday celebration, band contest, basketball game, dance, birthday party, awards banquet, etc. There's also a slew of major life events that one refers to as "my day," including the day one obtains a driver's license, the day one becomes legal enough to purchase a lottery ticket, the day one becomes legal enough to purchase alcohol, the day one graduates; becomes engaged, married, has a child, etc. Now, as an adult, it sometimes seems that the events on the calendar are so obligatory: mandatory meetings, major deadlines, etc. Everyone always said that the high school and/or college years would be the best times of my life. Though it seemed like a complete fallacy at the time, I am starting to wonder.

I don't mind the responsibilities of being an adult. I can handle paying my bills on time, being a mother, etc. For the most part, those things aren't much different from high school. It's the fact that all the climactic life events came and went at such a young age. Sure, there's celebrations, but the special "firsts" are what make youth so magical. With the realization that those days are gone comes the sensation of being old. Now I know I'm still too young to really complain, but sometimes I get an overwhelming whir of emotions anyway.

As I was helping my little sis get ready tonight, I got out a couple of albums and was looking through pictures of my high school years. It was breathtaking, seeing my friends and me, so exuberant and full of life. While looking at the pictures, I kept thinking how much I want to feel like that again. I want to be tan and cute and curious and in love. I want to pass notes and giggle and go t-ping and count down days til the next major event. I want to drive around aimlessly with friends (who I don't see anymore) , jam to a hip remix, cruise Broad Street, flirt with boys, and shop for the perfect dress for prom. I want to be what I was.

And the problem with that is I can't ever be that again. Being an adult means sacrificing such juvenile joys. It means looking forward to things like buying a house, raising kids, and obtaining a stellar job. With those things comes the unfortunate stress of credit scores, being a role model/enforcing discipline, and being a highly functional employee.

Maybe I'm just a little too emotional right now. I've always been a sentimental basketcase anyway, always wanting to hold on to each stage of my life and never let go.