Dear Future Me

I have just received an email from myself.  But no, it’s not one of those times when you forward an email to your inbox to save yourself a copy, and neither one of those control freak habits of checking how your email is going to look like to the one you're sending to and so you send it to yourself first. 

Two years ago I found a website called FutureMe.org which allows you to send an email to yourself anytime in the future.  I find the idea interesting because it makes you think about what you want to tell yourself 5 or 10 years from now in the second person point of view:

“Hi Kat, how’s your vacation in Europe going? Probably you’re having a romantic getaway with your hubby on your first year anniversary!” 

Fun right? It’s like practising your fortune telling powers on yourself. But if these self prophesies do not happen and you receive an email from your past self to affirm such inaccuracies or overestimations, then I don't think it will be that fun anymore. Instead it might turn out to be funny because you like a fool with this reply:

 “Haha what anniversary are you talking about?!  Ugh you mean my mum and dad's anniversary?”  

So today, I received this email I have made on 16th of November 2009.  Yes, two long years and now here it is!! I was quite scared on the sight of it because aside from forgetting that the day shall come for me to read it- I know it's going to burst my bubble.

So what did my 23 year old self two years ago told 25 year old self now?  

I think I was congratulating myself in advance for having a stable life, and in my own terms that simply means being financially independent above anything else. Just like how any Taurean defines security. 

I knew for sure is that aside from being an insomniac nothing really changed about me or the things I wanted in life. I still want to be 'Carrie Bradshaw-esque' fabulous, rich, successful and all that jazz.  I know I won't be surprised on what I'll read from my past self, I was rather scared because I know have let myself down again. 

How will I explain to my past self that things didn't work out exactly the way she wanted it?

They say that the future is always promising because it gives us hope- that things will get better than they are now. But sometimes that’s not always the case because things could always get worse. Disappointed on how I did not live up to the expectations of my past self, I pondered instead.. what would my future self tell to my present self?

And I was surprised to realise that nothing was ever lost- that all those tears, struggles and heartaches might be useful one day and become a foundation for something greater. I'm not sure but I think I heard the future me whisper: "Put on a smile. The game is not yet over." 

                                                                                                                       

What happens when you turn 25?

Gee, I'm just a few hours away from officially hitting twenty five. Technically I am already right now, but not really yet- because the morning hasn't cracked and I was born at 10 in the evening  ;-) 

Anyway, this day is not just any lavish excuse to throw a wild birthday party one last time- bidding goodbye to a couldn't-care-less attitude we had in my 20's. Neither is it a ticking time bomb before our youthful glow vanishes; nor a much feared reminder to start ticking items in our bucket list before reaching 30. But why fear when this is actually a point when great transformations are primed to happen. 

Contemplation 

Twenty five is the age of reason where the mind is fully developed to make rational decisions, however, it doesn't make it any easier for us to choose which path to take, as errors in this point will not be as easy to correct as it was 5 years ago.

Maybe going back to school as a 20 year old kid was a decision you would take without even thinking as time is in your hands to exploit, but add another 5 years to the equation and at 25, that option may not exactly be a gamble worth the jackpot. Or say would you stay in a lousy relationship with a person you see no future with? At 20, hope can keep that relationship alive but come 25, the only option is to find more an investment that will provide a better return.

I believe reaching 25 is one of those pivotal moments in our life where we cannot help but reassess how life has been in the past quarter of a century. There comes an expectation for us to fit into the norm. So what would a 25 year old person be committed to at this day and time? We don't want to veer away from 'normalcy' and try to live up to our own and most especially to our family and peer's expectations.

It's the rising point leading to climax at a story plot. Reaching 25 would make you pause, and wonder whether or not the path you are standing at this moment is the still the same direction you want to see yourself 5- 10 years from now.  The more we get older it seems that time is becoming a scarcity and that quality transcends quantity.  

Frustration

10 years ago I couldn't wait to grow up and be one of those adults who ruled the world. I wanted to be a woman of power and become rich, beautiful and successful. Thinking about it now, I realise that it was nothing but a safe aspiration. Yes I had the vision, which is better than having nothing at all, but I had no exact plan for execution.


In my mind, I was driven enough to pursue anything that will come my way, but there was one thing I missed. I was not courageous enough to put into concrete terms what that ‘anything’ is supposed to mean. “Lawyer”, “Accountant”, “Entrepreneur”, “Journalist”, “Dancer” and “Actor” would have filled the blanks and I would have arrive at the same end point of success. 

 Letting Go

I feel as if in a few hours I will be given a life sentence to a prison they call 'real life'-where an attempt to escape is seen as a mortal sin rather than an act of jest and a moment to breathe. So no more games for me? Not entirely, but it probably means playing with calculated risk this time around because the stakes are higher.

I don't want to be the girl who refuses to grow up but I still do want to visit Neverland from time to time. We sometimes have that love-hate relationship with children because they are animated creatures who happened to be brats- but the thing I love most about them (that I want to stay with me) is their sense of wonder!  And with the good comes the bad, thus being mature means letting go of being childish about life: throwing tantrums and non-stop whining!

The next 25 years will be the most productive years ahead of me and I doubt that this is the last time I'll be having such a mid-life crisis. Twenty five is just the beginning of this roll- it's the time when career, family, self discovery and everything else will reach its fullest potential, so the best way to deal with it is to just live and let go!  

My Silly Secret

Do you want to know a secret?

We all have nasty habits or secrets we don't want other people to know so we keep it safe to ourselves. And maybe, just maybe- only a circle of trusted friends knows that quirky side you've been keeping in years.

Deciding what part of yourself you want to share others is not always easy for the fear of being laughed at. I mean, not all people can get you without explaining too much. I bet you'll be called a freak if others find out you like salt too much that you can eat it by itself. But today that's the least of my concerns. 


I am opening a little shop of horrors *$&#* about myself- attempting to be brave. Don't worry, this is not even close to a monologue of exposé I intend on telling a shrink. I just remembered something I used to do, which I'm not sure anyone has ever done or will ever attempt if they're not at all half kooky. All I'm sure of is how silly the idea was. 


I'm dying to let this off my chest and wondering if by any chance someone else is as nuts as me who did something like this: 


The Crush Certificate


A crush certificate was a kind of document I used to prepare and sign to acknowledge that I have had a crush on someone for a period of time. I don't do this anymore but my 11-12 year old self certainly did. This certificate of appreciation was awarded to an exclusive pool of big time crushes I had in the late 90's.  


The most essential feature it had is an issue and expiry date. On every certificate I made for a crush, I have written the exact dates when I started having crushes on them and the exact dreadful day as well when I no longer find them cutest guy ever. Like when I found out that Stephen Gately of Boyzone was gay! 

Stephen Gately of Boyzone,
 one of the firsts who broke my heart.

To make it official, I sign my name on this document legibly as a declaration of 'love'. But I also bring meaning to every declaration by justifying why they are worthy of a Kat's Certificate of Appreciation because for me it's not just a spur of the moment thing. Like I stated reasons (gazillion of them) on what I liked about my crushes, like Nick Carter's serenading voice and charming smile. 

Nick Carter, once the apple of my eye.

I hunt for the best picture I can find in song hits magazines or newspapers and  paste it in this top secret document. So if in case someone blew my cover and found these crush certificates, they can at least give kudos for my taste for cuties. 

I have left behind a stash of these certificates on a well kept suitcase hidden in my room back in my home town. I'm hoping it's still there when I come back so I retrieve it and use it for cheering up myself on occasional bad days. I can't remember on what hooked me into doing that. It's like deciding at any early age I want my heart to be exclusive by dividing my heart into rooms meant only for people I really care about. 

Let me justify that perhaps during that time that's how I perceive adults are like when they are in love: crazy. So I tried to encapsulate a moment in time, through pieces of fine paper and handwritten scribbles of madness on what it felt like to be head-over-heels for the first time. 

Learning Spanish. ¿Por que?

More than words?

 “The more you repeat a material, the more you’ll remember it.”   

This is a borrowed line from my ‘Spanish instructor’ and my imagination just ran wild immediately after reading that line.


I know for sure I am not the only girl in the world who has a fascination for Spanish men. To prove this, I found a facebook group named: Spanish men are HOT. 


And I couldn’t help myself but agree and click join.  It will be easier if I can learn the language through a face-to –face conversation with a Spanish hearthrob. That would be like hitting 2 birds at one stone. 


But realistically all I have now are resources ample enough to get myself a Drive Time Spanish CD. And the Spanish instructor I earlier quoted comes from this audio material.  

My intent to learn Spanish has nothing to do with practical use. I am neither joining the Amazing Race nor moving to Spain this summer. 


Falling in love with this language is inevitable knowing that my heritage has Spanish influences. 


But putting biases out of the picture, I know I’d still fall in love with a Spanish lullaby the first time I hear it. Beginner and intermediate Spanish has been part of the curriculum back in College. It’s like a blessing and curse. 

No one can force me to study on my own because I was interested like a 7 year old, however the professors were stiff and quick tempered Señoras.


I also had the opportunity to enrol in an intermediate Spanish course in the US under the instruction of a native speaker. He knows better than my previous professors nonetheless but he did not act like he was the King of the hill, patient and kind in fact. 


I got good marks but after I finished the course I did not practice and increase my vocabulary. Time ran its course and my Spanish got brittle. 

Some people think that it’s already too late to learn a language as an adult because our tongues have become unbendable and our minds too stubborn. This is untrue especially for those with an open mind and willing to grasp everything like a sponge. 


The only way of retaining an acquired skill is to apply it consistently. This is the part where I stumbled. 


Learning Spanish or any other language is not the same with learning how to bike, that when you learn once you’re going to remember it forever.