3 December
2012
“It’s
07:30AM and I’m supposed to be at school in 15 - how on earth am I going to get
to the other side of town in 15 bloody minutes when I’m only leaving the door
now?!”
That was school for me – being late - almost every day. Yep – late. Almost.
Every. Single. Day. Besides going when I felt like it, I deliberately chose to
be late. Silly me. Although I always felt a sense of urgency and remorse on my
way there, I wasn’t the least bit bothered otherwise (so much for being a
teacher’s pet). A lot of the times, I even did my homework on the way. Why
couldn’t I get an A for multitasking?
Apart from
being late for school, I was late for my own life in general. Sometime before I
was 18, an age when a lot of my peers were already starting villages of their
own, I missed that bus of underage drinking, awesome wild parties and steaming
hot make-out sessions with some of my crushes (boy, did I have a lot of crushes
back then). Bummer. If by some miracle I happened to be there, I was probably
that shy, adorable, friendly kid who just had fun being the party-pooper. For
the life of me, I even swapped chill-sessions, socials, the coolest concerts
and danceshows to go to workshops, seminars or just stay home and read.
Studying books on commerce, self-development and motivation consumed a large
portion of my time since I was 12. At 16, I even passed off the opportunity to
date my biggest crush because “I wasn’t ready”. Can someone say total cube…?
The first
time I tasted a man’s lips I was 17. We were two weeks in and man, did I
surprise the living daylights out of myself that day. I then drank alcohol for
the first time a while before I turned 18, giving the cranberry juice and green
tea a break each time we went to the club – swapping them for a cider or two. I
never became much of a drinker though. I’ve actually put that to a complete
hault, remembering my mother’s age-old philosophy, “Your body is your temple;
what you put in is what you get out.” In any case, the buzz isn’t for everyone.
Big deal. I never understood why people were so concerned with what was in my
cup anyway – it’s MY cup. I guess it’s true; misery does love company. Drunken
bastards. Then at 20, I actually mustered the chutzpah to make out with 4 guys –
juice by me! (one of them actually became my boyfriend though – so much for
giving the no-strings-attached thing a chance at life), and a few
months shy of turning 21, I lost my virginity. Ouch.
During my
late-teen years, apart from hitchhiking but only a million times, sleeping at
someone’s gate during winter with a group of friends, attending almost every
Pens Down party (when it was still very much relevant) and some other wacky
stuff I did with tons more awesome people, I skidded through onto my adulthood
years barely scarred, proudly hoisting and flaunting my flag of “Best Freaken
Childhood Ever, Anyway!”
Still
though, I think I must’ve missed the memo: “Been there, done that, got the
T-Shirt… when it mattered.” In other words, Live Fast, Die Young. In that case,
my breakthrough stage was nothing short of passé, in social terms, void of real
adventure and too much on the safe side. I half-past missed that main bus.
But that
doesn’t matter. I was more than happy to catch the next one. It arrived just on
time for me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. There’s absolutely nothing
wrong with being a late-bloomer. Okay, I still look 15, and yes, I don’t have a
degree (yet), but all that time of self-taught learning -- inspired by my
incredible parents, is finally paying off, and life seems to have given the
cool-kids of my time one helluva slap of a wake up call. They’re in the
doldrums wondering, “Whatever happened to the good ol’ days?” Others are
desperately still painting the town red, hoping to relive that hometown glory
feeling with under-18s-gone-wild who wonder why they have to party with grandpa
and his friends. I’ll call it “Nerds Revenge”. Good God, you have such a great
sense of humour! We all do get some action in the end -- all in moderation and
at the best time. So don’t sweat under pressure; keep your own cuppa-cool
flowing.
As for the
next bus? It’s actually a plane… It should be landing any moment now -- ready to
take my loved ones and I to a pretty island-like oasis overseas where I intend
to live out the rest of my destiny. No worries, I won’t be late for this one; I’ll be early by at least 15 minutes.
-Tracy
Wilbon
