Just make the most of what you’re paid, dear

Since I found it, I've had the letter I wrote myself when I was 15 or so tacked to the corkboard next to my desk. I barely remember the girl with terrible handwriting and who couldn't spell completion (how did I think there was an "s" and no "t"? I remember the Che Guevera tee shirt. I remember the jelly bracelets creeping up both arms and the small x's she reapply with eyeliner after washing her hands in the restroom outside the theatre. I remember a worn out copy of Guerrilla Warfare and how she'd quote Noam Chomsky and Howard Zinn and try to use words like "hegemony" before she really understood what she was talking about. The crossed out Gap label she safety pinned to a mechanic's jacket. Jeans she patched and re-patched and barely ever washed because she was afraid the thread might come undone so she'd just wear tights underneath them as if there was any way to feign modesty with fishnets. She'd dye her hair burgundy.

Ok, maybe I remember her distinctly. It wasn't really so long ago that I was 15. I think about her when I have absolutely no idea what it is that I want to do or be. Not even a vague idea. She had a pretty clear plan for herself. Granted, I think at least part of that plan involved accidentally running into Zach De La Rocha somewhere (since they so often ran in the same circles) and impressing him with wisdom beyond her years. In the letter she asked me if I still wanted to be a rock journalist. I don't know if that's really still a job description. I don't read music magazine anymore. I got rid of my subscription to Rolling Stone and stopped myself from buying a copy at Borders tonight. Taylor Lautner was on the cover. He's 17. There's no way to make that alright. I used to read Spin and Blender but haven't picked up a copy of either of those in forever. The only magazine I have a subscription to is InStyle and that's only because I keep forgetting to cancel it.

It's not like I don't read music reviews anymore. I spend too much time at work on Pitchfork and Tiny Mixtapes. If I hear something, I'll Google it. I check out what people say on iTunes and eMusic. But if anyone can review anything now (if I really wanted to, I could review things here) is there such a thing anymore as the Critic?

I'm getting restless again. It happens every once and a while. I build up energy for whatever reason and I can't get rid of it. I can't seem to channel it into any of my regular outlets and it starts to make me anxious. I have to do something. I take up ridiculous hobbies out of restlessness and make impossible plans. I don't want to do that this time. That feels like wasted energy. It's such a big thing to try and figure out what would make you happy but that's what I want to do. I can't stay at my job forever (it's good for now but it isn't forever) and I sure as shit can't stay in this house forever.

That 15 year-old knew what she wanted out of life. I don't see any reason why I can figure out what a 15 year-old already knows.