When I was young I wanted to be four things: a writer, an actress, a rock star and a lawyer. I’ve succeeded at one of them and yet find myself unfulfilled. It’d be trite to call it a quarter-life crisis because that implies that the problems are of timing and not of happiness. But if that helps you classify me, then go right ahead because from here on out there will be very few times classification is possible.
I am a non-traditional person who has fallen into a very traditional life. I rushed through college and graduated with honors and a double major in four years flat. I then proceeded straight to law school as most people with a political science degree do at some point. I was married at the age of 26 and a homeowner at the age of 27 (unless you count the fact that the bank is the true owner). We have two cats, a dog, a yard, a garage, two cars and plenty of bobble heads. I’ve always been faced with a multitude of choices, but have ended up on the most predictable path with the most unpredictable side stories.
So now I am embarking on the second phase of my life. Instead of being predictable, I’m going to move beyond my comfort zone and play the drummer in my own rock band, the Sarah Bernhardt in my own stage show and the Ernest Hemingway in my own call to arms. This blog is about my life, but make no mistake, it is also about my journey to become the writer I was meant to be.
My life, though traditional, is full of mishaps, misunderstandings and missteps. I have crumbled more times than I care to recall. Embarrassment no longer mocks me because, frankly, it takes much more than a broken bone or mortifying moment to send me into the stratosphere. Having the Perfectly Cursed Life is something more intangible. It’s irony, ecstasy and revelry that is life.
It’s having your pipes burst and basement flood after you pull off the perfect birthday surprise.
It’s having allergies so bad you surprise an experienced allergist.
It’s giving your husband fifty dollars cash for Valentine’s Day.
It’s having the basement flood yet again on Christmas Eve.
It’s being systematically rubbed out by a major fast food chain.
It’s coming up with the best comeback a little too late.
It’s recognizing your relationship with your family is far funnier on a blog than it is in person.
To say I’m a walking contradiction would be too easy and too generic. I stumble too much and contradictions are too simple.
You can contact me at kim@perfectlycursedlife.com
