SPECTRUM 2007-2008

As a child, I spent much of my time dreaming about the future and imagining what life would be like as an adult. Many hours were passed “playing house”? and enacting make-believe jobs. As a result, I formed many expectations about adulthood that, naturally, have not panned out. I eventually realized that due to my actual personality, interests, and talents, life would take me down a very different path than I had believed.

Starting early on in life, I remember getting fantastically excited each year when the Miss America pageant came on. Oh what a life to be Miss America, I imagined! To me, the chief incentive of the job was the sparkly crown that was placed so elegantly atop her perfectly-coiffed head. I would become completely entranced by all the glittering jewels and end up lost in daydreams of myself on stage, waving to the crowd, crying tears of joy, wearing that coveted crown. It was quite clear to me then that becoming Miss America was my ultimate goal in life. My second choice, just in case the “Miss America thing”? didn’t work out, was being a gymnast. I pictured myself executing the utmost perfect floor routine (cartwheels and back flips and handstands, oh my!) in the Olympics, taking the Gold Medal and making my family so very proud.

When I wasn’t busy daydreaming of the world-class careers I would have as an adult, my time was spent conjuring up the mansion I’d occupy. I had notebooks full of floor plans, along with sketchings of the clothes and shoes that would fill my colossal walk-in closet. I imagined sitting on my bedroom balcony and looking out over the lush gardens, the green rolling lawn, and most importantly, the gigantic in-ground swimming pool–not just any pool, but a heart shaped one with slides, diving boards, and fountains. The work it would take to keep a manor of such proportions clean never crossed my mind because that’s what I would have a maid and butler for!

Now, as an adult, I find it sweetly humorous to think back in my child’s mind and remember the aspirations I had. Back then it didn’t dawn on me that Miss America wouldn’t be a logical occupation since I can’t stand being on display in front of large crowds. The pivotal point of realization came when I was about six-years-old, and my father informed me that in order to become Miss America, I would need to acquire more grace and fewer scars on my legs. I knew that was not going to happen! Gymnastics was eventually ruled out by the simple fact that I have yet to perfect the splits, let alone a cartwheel. So, I threw in the towel on those plans and have instead made a living as a secretary, which brings with it a steady income and makes use of some of the talents I do have (organization, communication, attention to detail). Although it’s not what I would choose to do, it pays the bills and will get me by until I finish school.

As far as houses go, reality is the polar opposite of my childhood expectation. For the past five years, I have lived in a 900-square-foot, two-hundred-year-old, mice-infested cabin. Remember that dreamy walk-in closet chock-full of clothes and shoes I envisioned? Well, in real life, my wardrobe shares a space at the end of our cracker box bedroom–with my German Shepard’s bed! So “lucky me,”? the few clothes and shoes I do have are all covered in dog hair. And what about that fantasy in-ground swimming pool? Well, the closest I’ve come to that is the “kiddie”? pool we set in the yard–for the dogs. Our “lush gardens and green rolling lawn”? consist of a few dead tomato plants and swampland, all of which are definitely not tended to by a maid or butler (hence the dead plants). There have been times, though, when my husband decides to mow the lawn or answer the door, and it’s those moments that I live vicariously through for that feeling of being waited upon!

Many years have passed since I was a small child with high hopes, believing life would turn out like those in the Sweet Valley High books I immersed myself in. Even though things did not turn out nearly as I had planned, I have kept the one thing that has always been important to me: my imagination. I can still draft my ideal house, visualize my ultimate pool, or imagine shimmying across stage and donning that sparkly crown. And the best part is I can do it all for free because dreaming doesn’t cost me a cent. In the meantime, I will savor each day of my reality, satisfied with where I am and looking forward to where I’ll be. Now if I could just figure out what I really want to be “when I grow up.”?