the decision to grow up

i have made the decision to grow up in small steps that mean a great deal. on tuesday i drove to ikea, purchased a desk, drove it home and assembled it. two phillips screwdrivers and twenty screws later (mother insisted the drill was too dangerous) i hung van gogh's "mandolro in fiore" above this new work area. three days later, i am still glowing with pride. radiant i tell you!

my next small step towards adulthood was to clean out the garage with my mother. we made a dent in this monumentous task. meaning? my fourth grade mission with screens in the windows, a kiln and fountain made of clay and plaster o' paris walls had to be chucked along with the cottoncandy pink tissue paper kite i made in third grade. its polka dotted blue tail with bows will be missed dearly. that being said, my mother gave me two bins to sort through. and it has been a joy to slowly mull over every single report card, award, picture, art project, spelling test, happy [insert holiday here] card my parents insist on keeping. there is this picture of my mother that is fresh and alive, that captures all my breath. i wish i had a scanner so you could see it. there is nothing like it in all the world.

i never learned how to ride a bike when i was younger. one fall, and i threw in the towel. that was when we lived in little mexico and our neighbors were samoan with children named after precious things like jade and ruby and pearl. my father said to hell with it and i never learned. earlier this summer i said that the streets will be mine. and after borrowing jenny's "miss huffy" bicycle and riding with michael yesterday afternoon i realized that the streets will not be mine. grass i can do with an exagerrated ease. but the pavement is strictly a challenge right now. a fear, if you will. it will be mine, just not right now.

and, as if this blog is not long enough, i vow to only purchase items of clothing that color me confident. items that i will wear a thousand times and still feel incredibly beautiful and immeasurably uncommon each time i wear them. that is all a young lady really longs for: to know how uncommon she truly is. and to feel it deeply.