I’ve been thinking about a couple of things lately, but the most prominent is that I am getting older. And I am changing. Emily turned 22 yesterday and I was thinking about what I could tell her about being 22. The only thing I could think of is that it is a strange feeling realizing you remember more of your life than you forget. I really don’t remember much about being 10 and younger, but from 11 on it’s all pretty clear. And you just remember more.
I track movements and changes in my thinking. How I got from one place to another and another. The crazy thing about being 22 is that you start to realize you aren’t as smart as you imagined. You don’t have it all figured it out. If only I could be as sure about everything as I was at 18. I just needed money, nice clothes and a way to see my friends when I was 18. I need all the same things now, but I have to think about every decision. The scope just gets bigger.
Well at 26—almost 27—I now know that I am not as smart as I imagined and nor am I as original. My whole life, all of the Gen-Yers, have been swollen by self-esteem. I am important, unique and special. AND NO RED PENS ALLOWED! But the truth is, as by mentioning Gen-Y, I am not that unique. I am actually just like everyone else, part of a group. I am trackable. I am marketable. And it’s not that this is the worst thing, but it’s simply not what I expected (because I have been so wrapped up in my unique awesomeness).
Some months ago, a new radio station started in Calgary—X92.9. There have only been a few radio stations that I have enjoyed in my life. Actually, there is only one other one. It was a station in P.A. Can’t remember the name. But I really enjoy X92. As I have said before, when I listen to it—it’s like being back in highschool. I really pumped that sentiment to a lot of friends, but then I realized I have reached a marketable age group. Like those weirdos who love 80s radio stations. I am a weirdo who loves 90s radio, remembering what it was like being 12 and feeling Nirvana in my veins.
So as it turns out, I am not an island or unique. I am just another one of you humans. And I guess I am okay with that.