Fourth of July was a lovely experience, as always. I opted out of staying at the frat for the weekend, despite the fact that I've never seen the fireworks and the Pops in Boston on the 4th, because I simply couldn't miss out on the annual family festivities down the Cape. Comme d'hab, I overstuffed myself with food, enjoyed the antics of my intoxicated relatives, hung out with my favorite cousins (whom I miss like crazy), ate jello cake in the shape of the USA (our undying tradition), played taboo, went to the Poppanessett marketplace and bought penny candy with the wide-eyed enthusiasm of a 5-year-old, and enjoyed a better-than-average fireworks display on the beach. In a word, delightful.
On my mom's side of the family, which is quite a close-knit unit, we have 12 cousins, and the fourth of July is usually the only time we're all together at once. With each passing year, however, it gets a little weirder to see how everyone's grown up. When we were kids, it seemed like we were stuck in this time capsule that kept us young forever. But now, even the youngest of the cousins, the one we used to call "Baby Stephanie", is 14 and wearing makeup and high heels! And the oldest, Andrew, just turned 26 and is getting married next summer. It's all pretty unfathomable. It even seems to be hitting the adults rather hard...multiple people questioned me when I popped open a beer during dinner - I thought I was going to have to break out my ID. My little cousin Jill, the one who used to annoy the shit out of us when we were young and never seemed to grow up, is now learning to drive. It's just all rather bizarre...we're all still clearly separated into "kids" and "adults" at these family events, but as the years pass (and quickly), we're suddenly sitting together as two or three generations of adults. Basically, hates it.
Speaking of growing up, I spend 9 hours a day on the computer at work, and I've been attempting to use that time to research postgraduate options. POST-GRADUATE?! How did this happen? How did my impending graduation slip so surreptitiously under my nose? Sneaky little bitch.
I've been exploring the following options: applying to the foreign service in the US State Department, grad school in the UK, Teach For America, Peace Corps, AmeriCorps, and, as my longshot, grad school in France. Or I could always just try to get a big-girl job straight off the bat, but I think I'm going to attempt to delay the dirty real world for as long as possible...anything that will keep me out of the JOB-MARRIAGE-KIDS-HATEMYLIFEFOR20YEARS-RETIREMENT track. God, I'm such a typical Milennium Generation Baby it hurts. Whatever. Someday I'll realize I'm not a unique and special snowflake whose hopes and dreams are important and attainable. But today is not that day. If only I had been raised French...I would already know what I was doing for the rest of my life and would be cemented forever in a career path without the option of changing my mind. Ok, so that might suck. But at least I would be French, making me at least 500% better than everyone else by default.
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