There was a time in my life when I thought I'd own the coolest car, the most tech'ed out house, and have the hottest non-commital girlfriend. It was a fantasy land where I was 25 years old, making a cool six figures on my way to seven, and living the so called "high life". A dream where I'd go to my 10 year high school reunion in my personal chopper, flying below it on a platform which is holding a grand piano and me - jamming Ben Folds Five's One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn Faces with huge speakers blaring down on all of my old classmates, most of whom I hated at the time of this dream.
"If you really want to see me check the papers and the TV - look who's telling who what to do! Kiss my ass goodbye."
So, you may be asking yourself, how close did he get to fulfilling his dream?
Not. At. All.
Let's see how I stacked up to my dreams:
- The coolest car
- I used to have one of the coolest cars - a 2005 MINI Cooper S. Sexy little thing she was. However, she is no longer and now I'm killin' a dadmobile. A 2002 Mazda MPV. Don't let the "Multi-purpose Vehicle mislead you; it's a mini-van.
oh yeah - get's all the ladies
- A tech'ed out house
- Well at least I own a house, and we do have some decent tech lying around. But it certainly isn't the futuristic modern home with white carpets and black leather and a home control panel in every room. It's a 1960's era house and it has rooms and a roof. Ta-da!
- The hottest non-commital girlfriend
- I had one of those. She was hot as hell, put up with all of my shenanigans, loved to game, loved to cook, and would do anything for me. Her laugh is what I lived for, and those curves... mmmm. So I did what any self-respecting man would do. I married her. So that gets rid of "non-commital" and "girlfriend", but I'll tell ya, she's still the hottest.
- Six figures on the way to seven
- Helicopter at the reunion
- I didn't even go - it wasn't worth my time.
My dreams used to really suck
Funny how life and maturity have a way of smacking you upside the face to remind you just how big of a douche you were in the days of old. How absolutely terrible your dreams and aspirations were. Fast cars, hot chicks, and all the blow you could muster does not equal personal happiness. They're just masks that you'd put on to feign self-worth.
I've been learning even more just what self-worth is... well... worth. It's everything! If you can't find value in yourself, you aren't going to find it in other things as well. You know what makes me feel valuable these days? Little girl sassiness and baby vomit and poop, I can't even begin to describe the feeling of pride as I wear my badge of spit-up on my shirt from BabyB. I couldn't be more proud of my life as I clean up a poo-splosion which shot so far up his back that it hit his neck.
I love the looks I get from other people as my little girl throws down her opinion on matters. Even if she thinks that the bear and the wolf with the monster and the unicorn would be an excellent rebuttal to why the Wisconsin recall election will be historically significant - the fact that she has her own mind, thoughts, and personality brings nothing but smiles to my face.
I hop in my rusty-ass minivan, cruising to Sams club, doing 55 (it can't go much faster), and I still smile at hot girls in the car next to me. And they laugh... and I laugh... because what I have and what I am is awesome.
And then my hot wife smacks me for checking out other women.