Remember how I said Flintstones kids are way cooler than Jetsons kids? Well, here is the proof.
My friends Jo & Chris won the giveaway (free tickets to the tram and free frameless sunglasses that eye doctors give you after you’ve had your eyes dilated, courtesy of OHSU but also of me and my two doctor’s appointments). In order to win they had to answer the question ‘Were you a Flintstones or a Jetsons kid?’
Said Jo, ‘I think I was a Flintstones kid. Something about Wilma’s pearl necklace made out of rocks really resonated with me.’
Doesn’t that just make sense? And yet, there is something about patent leather and everything synthetic ever that I just can’t get enough of. Because I was, and will ever be, a Jetsons kid. While I’m on the topic, I should tell you that I have made further hypotheses based on my Cartoon-influenced Personality Theory.
1. The person who designed the PT Cruiser was a Betty Boop kid (or adult–do kids even watch Betty Boop? I don’t think I was allowed.)
2. The appropriation of Native American culture by the 16-24 demographic between 2005-2010 was indirectly caused by the 1997-2001 cartoon TV series Recess and its portrayal of kindergarteners.
I’m leaving for New York tomorrow, and the past few weeks have been one long crisis in confidence. Mostly I have asked myself over and over, ‘What am I doing? Will I get a job? How is it possible that I haven’t gotten a job? What is the difference between a cover letter and a letter of interest? Am I good at anything? Do I suck at everything? Why do I suck at everything? Does anybody even like me? Which comes first: the job or the business casual haircut?’
As you can imagine, I haven’t been much fun. But! I have learned one important thing about myself, which is that I keep my anxiety in my big toes, and especially in my left big toe. For some reason, my right big toe is slightly more mellow. Now I know.
It’s like when I went to college and found out that, though I imagined myself an adventuresome girl ready to live fearlessly, I am actually a planner. I was sorely disappointed in myself for a while, but then I learned to live with this fact, and now it’s not so bad. I know if I get an idea in my head, I can probably make it happen in fifteen steps. But, in the past four years, I forgot something else about myself, which is that, however much I like to plan and make lists, I do like adventure, and there is always a little part of me that yearns to venture into the unknown.
I’m getting ready to do just that, not exactly by choice; but no one’s forcing me, either. Here is my reality right now: I’m going to New York. Maybe I’m going to get a great job and be successful. Maybe I’ll fail gloriously and head right back to Texas to live in my pink and green bedroom until I figure out my next step. As of now, I have no idea where I’ll be sleeping after Monday night. I’m crossing my fingers that everything will work out, but right now, I have no clue. And that suits me fine.
*Trying my luck (and stuff)
Note: I wrote this before leaving Texas. So far everything is working out really well in New York!