When I was eleven, I was positive of one thing: I was going to marry Zac Hanson. Everyone thought it was cute. I thought it was inevitable and I had the perfect plan. I was going to get myself a college degree, land a decent high-paying job, haul my a** out of the Philippines and into America, and hunt for Zac Hanson. Unfortunately, somewhere between getting a college degree and landing a goldmine of a job, I got lost. Yes, my life's GPS batteries died, and I caught a really bad case of the sickness called "fun." I had waaaaaaay too much fun. I grew up too uptight and straight that I just had to break out of my shell and lose myself.
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| My favorite band. DUH. |
Fast forward fifteen years. I now have a three-year-old (almost four) son---and no, Zac Hanson is in no way his father, sad to say. I did not get to marry Zac Hanson; some Kate Tucker girl stole the master plan and beat me to the finish line. I was not able to land the job of my dreams, and no, I do not have a high-paying job either. Well, it IS decent. But what is decency, if not only a concept. To be fair with me, I did get the first part of the plan right: I graduated college and bagged a license, which I only used for barely a year. Well, it does come in handy a couple of times when I need a valid ID. The license I have tucked away in my wallet? It means nothing to me. It's nothing other than a rectangular piece of plastic, with my stoned-looking face stuck on it. Under my name, it says "Nurse." The only thing I've perfected in nursing is my appetite. And this is also one thing I didn't see being drawn on my life's blueprint: weight gain. For Pete's sake, I was called stick bread back in the day. How and why I ended up looking like some walking, talking bulldozer is beyond me.
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| Zac and sneaky little Kate. Haha |
Enough about the depressing stuff. They're coming to town: my used-to-be- and still-imaginary boyfriend Zac and his brothers! And because, as mentioned above, I did not land a high-paying job, I am still struggling to raise the money for the tickets! God bless my soul for being too responsible in paying rent, utilities, and debts. I should have been a little evil. If other people are able to live off the streets, sleeping on cardboard boxes, I'm sure I can too. Can't I? (Insert serious face here).
This year, I am turning 26, and I am positive of one thing: plans are made, and plans fail sometimes; but this doesn't mean that I have to stop and just sulk in one corner. I should dust myself off, retouch, fix my hair, and go kick some a**. You know what they say, one should never cry over spilled milk. Just lick it off the floor and get it over with! You get to still drink your milk and clean the floor! Saves you time and money. HAHAH. OK, seriously, my story might have ended up differently (Zac out of the picture and all---I know! It's just heartbreaking!) and I might have made some decisions that did not really make a lot of people happy; but the real question is (this sounds a bit egocentric and a bit selfish): AM I HAPPY? With a son that beats the shhh out of me and a partner that drives me crazy (in all aspects imaginable and unimaginable, good and bad), I could say that I am relatively happy. Not that convince-yourself kind of happy, it's the I-can-sleep-well-at-night kind of happy.
I appreciate the ups and downs I have been through. I appreciate the people that have come in and out of my life. I appreciate the little twist God has thrown down on my perfectly laid-out plan. Maybe it was just not meant to be. Maybe my plan was wrong all along, and this is what's right. This is what is for me. And who knows? This might not be the end yet. I might actually land that dream job. I might actually haul my big fat a** out of this country and into America. I might actually hunt down Zac Hanson, and you know, divorce is quite common in the US, and----OK, I know . . . I should stop. Zac Hanson is not going to happen; but the concert is. *fan girl shriek*
Amen.
