then. . . what am i?

i am not my mother.

this came to me yesterday.

most women turn into their mothers. i feel this inevitability is directly tied to the age at which that woman marries. my mothers mother married the weekend after her high school graduation. my mother married weeks before her 21st birthday. i am now 26 with no vows in sight, but with the slightly profound realization that i am certainly not my mother. perhaps i never was going to be, though i feel most strongly now that no matter what, thats an unlikely end for me.

strange tho, that i am not my father either.

last night this line of thinking drew me down

down

down

until i came to something i couldnt name. something ayn rand has undoubtedly mulled over.

it went something like this:

i am not my mother
i am not my father

i am not even my relatives or ancestors

i am not any of my relationships

i am not my beauty
i am not my ugliness
i am not my gifts and skills
i am not my mistakes and misgivings

i am not my emotions
i am not my logic

i am not my experiences
i am not my goals and aspirations

i am not my education
i am not my bank account

i am not my resume

i am not my memories
i am not my friends
i am not my enemies

i am not the place i was raised
i am not the places ive been

i am not my insecurities
i am not my strengths

i am not my religion
i am not my sins

i am not my judgements
i am not my tolerances

i am not all good
i am not all bad

i am not all of any one thing.


but, this all begs the question:



what,

then,

is left

that i am?

retirement

i dont know what came over me.

really, i don't

but it just sounded like a good idea.
and you know lately everything's just been so. . . malleable

so, today i started my retirement account.
partly inspired by mr mark's new blog, and partly due to the fact that moving seems to flex all the organizational muscle you have, i did it, and its a permanent thing.

and by permanent i mean like super glue permanent.

literally.

it went something like this:

i took the biggest glass bottle ive ever seen, the kind chicago deli's keep their pickle spears in, i took a screw driver to the top to create a slot, super glue to the lid to help me keep my spending impulses at bay, and a black sharpie to the front, which now reads:

'Tacy's Retirement'

then i dropped into it every spare penny, nickel, and dime that i came across in my unpacking/organizing spree.

all told ive got something to the tune of 4.39 saved, but for one day, thats not bad.

and hell, we've all gotta start somewhere.

and it begins. . .

so, i'm going home.

again.

and im really trying to do it without feeling like a big fat failure.

its hard though, to not feel the defeat, when the school you hired to educate you fires you.

ahhhhh well, life lesson #1,297,563 learned.

in reflection of my time in colorado, i did make a lot of connections.

i have acquired dozens of friends whom i will keep for a long time.

and i have to admit that in and of itself is worth the grief it took to come.

i will miss the mountains, and if i could take the weather back with me, this might be the perfect situation.

colorado, i will miss you. . . friends and family gained, i will take you with me in my heart, and please keep me in yours as i endeavor a new beginning yet again.

my new beginning

my genesis.

-tacylane