Happy winter break! I hope you’re having lots of fun terrorizing the local establishments, making a spectacle of yourselves at the movie theatre (thanks for ruining The Hobbit for me,) and sitting in those strange little lounge seats at the mall, playing your X-box or whatever portable video game thing you’re using (WOW am I really this old?)
It’s been a good year, right? It’s been a good year for me. And, after a string of rather mediocre, forgettable years, that’s kind of a big thing. And as much as I have bitched and moaned through every day with you, as always, you’ve been a big part of it. So here are my wishes for you, for 2014:
1. Stop saying “happy new years.” All of you. It’s neither a plural, nor a possessive. It’s one new year. Jesus.
2. I hope you can lose fewer things this year. It seems like we all lost a lot of our crap. This is why you should never bring anything valuable to school.
3. I hope you can do the right thing more often this year. And I don’t just mean stealing each other’s crap, or making up horrible and ridiculous shit about your frenemies. Mostly I mean doing the right thing for yourselves. And if you can’t, I hope that you instead surround yourselves with people who will encourage and/or force you to do the right thing for yourself. And who love you enough to let you resent them until you are able to admit that it was right all along.
I had the opportunity of a lifetime, to travel to another country this summer, and I almost didn’t go because I was too chickenshit. Fortunately, I know myself well enough to understand that I can’t always be trusted with making big decisions and instead left it up to a very trusted friend and mentor, a decision I regretted almost immediately when he promptly told me I was, in fact, going. And I was going to like it.
I am humiliated to tell you this. I cried, and I railed, I spent the better part of a month on the verge of a nervous breakdown. It was a trip to an amazing place, a once-in-a-lifetime work opportunity that would forever change my life, so why did I need someone to literally force me to take it?
I had spent my entire life waiting for an opportunity like this, for a moment when I would think to myself “wow, this is my life, finally showing up!” And I imagined that I would pass through the magic gates and come out the other side this person I’ve always wanted to be, someone who was so much cooler, and wiser, and so sure. In my fantasies, it was life that showed up, and what I learned the hard way is that, in real life, the only one who needed to actually show up was me. And sometimes, showing up is fucking hard, dude. And don’t ever let anyone berate you for having a tough time doing it.
I became exhausted this year, with showing up. I wondered often to myself (I still wonder, to be honest,) if I will ever be able to experience wonderful things in life without having to drag myself kicking and screaming towards them. I can’t tell you if it’s going to get easier, I wish I knew. But this year, I dragged myself halfway around the world, I dragged myself to a pole dancing class, to a tattoo parlor, to a sex shop, to an interview with a talent manager, on and off a dating website, and dragged myself to start a blog, something I have always wanted to do (that I’m still too scared to put my name on… but, baby steps, right?) And you know what? I could not be fucking happier.
And to you, the five adults who read my blog (thank you, I love you so much for it,) I wanted to tell you that I wish that your year is full of happiness and adventure and love, of laughing until you cry and/or make really laughably ugly faces, of loud music and singing and dancing, and the occasional cathartic bitchface. But, if there is anything I learned this year at all, it is that these things are out there, waiting for us to show the fuck up. So, instead, I hope that we all get super rich.
So much love,
Miss Mikayla Park