I turn 25 today, which feels like a milestone. In the last quarter century, I’ve raised goats, read through a library and a half, graduated college (and gone back for round two), solo traveled on three continents, dirtbagged, lived with a family that’s not my own, volunteered full-time, learned a second language, and threw in my lot working for a Fortune 500 company.
I don't really feel like writing about this.
I speak Spanish a few times a week at my job and my mouth quickly gets tired and clumsy from the unfamiliar shapes it has to make. The only reason I remember the word for "hole" is because I have huecos in my vocabulary. I stopped straining to understand new accents and simply tell people to slow down if I can't understand them.
This is one of the ways I learned that "But this is just who I am!" doesn't fly as an excuse for unprofessional or inappropriate behavior. We learn to present certain aspects of ourselves in appropriate situations.
I’ve learned to be wary of shortcuts and accelerated progress. For me, a career is not a race to win against other people, but rather a structure to be built brick by brick, making sure each level is solid before adding another.
Es interesante. Le llamo mi mamá tica, pero mi relación con ella no siente como una relación entre madre e hija. Ni es como una amistad, ni una tutoría, ni ninguna otra relación convencional. Es algo único que no existiría en otro caso.
The "dumbest" people by far I have ever encountered are whitewater rafting guests. We would encounter pasty white city folk who don't know a paddle from an oar, foreigners who don't know how to swim, and muscle-bound bachelor parties who paddle with the strength of 100 ants.
School never taught me to file taxes, or how to set a budget. CCD (Sunday school) never taught me why Catholics say the things we do in Mass. Job trainings are never as good as the boss promises they'll be in the interview. The vet didn't tell me how to trick my kitten into taking medicine.