The easiest way to avoid a question you don't want to answer is by saying, "Well, it's a long story." I've used this on numerous occasions. People hear this, and immediately realize that they'll have to actually pay serious attention, and invest both time and brain power to actually get an answer to their question. Usually, this is enough to deter just about anyone. So not only do you not have to answer the question, but you make it seem like it's them who is not continuing the line of inquiry.
But occasionally, someone will actually say, "I've got time," or, "Go on..." For most people, this would be the point where they admit that they actually have nothing. That the "long story" was just a ruse to avoid explaining something. But I'm never foiled. Unlike some people of little imagination, I actually do have a story to back it up. Sure, it's always the same story. But it is quite truthful. Everything in my life worth talking about does seem to relate back to this one story. Or at least, all of my stories seem to have their ultimate beginnings with this one set of events. It involves me spending a lot of time at the local library after I moved to Monroe, Michigan during the summer after 6th Grade.
From this point, it branches out to a wide variety of events. And that wide variety of events has practically enveloped my life and experience since that point. How did I really become a geek? It was that summer, and the books I got from the library that did it. How did I come to have an interest in language? That summer at the library. When did I become interested in drinking? Well, it wasn't directly from that summer at the library, but it's easy enough to trace it back it. [Theses aren't necessarily the three things that must be mentioned, just the three things that happen to come to my drunken mind at the moment. --ed.] I suppose that that was the summer where I began to both rebel from and flee to the morality my parents had set up for me. I've come to accept it as both logical and right, but there was a time (mainly freshman year of college) where I doubted everything I had learned from them. It was a summer of discovery, though at the time I didn't know it.
For the first time, I was reading things that my parents weren't recommending. I was thinking about things that my parents hadn't discussed with me. I was becoming my own person. I suppose that everyone has one of those times, where they become themselves rather than what they have been molded to be. Or maybe there are those who go through life without ever reaching a plane of thought higher than what they obtained in their first 10 years of living. If anyone goes through life this way, I pity them. I had no idea at the time, but that summer was probably one of the defining moments in my life. I suppose that the influence of my parents and my early upbringing was carried over through this change, but it was at this point that I decided which predispositions I would (unconsciously) discard and keep.
Looking back at 6th grade in Fort Wayne vs. 7th grade in Monroe, I can tell that I was a dramatically different person. Reclusive v. sociable, smart-alec v. smart, and even (dare I say it?) pessimist v. optimist. Sure, I've regressed occasionally, but for the most part I'm a much happier person. That summer was a true "coming of age." And I very much enjoy the age I came to.
So what creates these moments of self-reflection? The moments where everything seems to change (when you look back on it)? Actually, when I think long and hard about it, and when I'm completely honest with myself, I suppose the moment of change came when I decided to change. And this was not during the summer after 6th grade, it was durning 6th grade itself. The specifics are burried by my poor memory, but the general feeling is there. I finally realized that I was unhappy, and that it was within my power to change this. I knew that we were going to be moving somewhere new, and that I would meet a completely new set of people. So, I reasoned, I would have a fresh slate. And this time I would not screw up as I had in the past. I decided to change my life, and it worked.
So, for 7th and 8th grade, I tried being a different person. It was better, but not perfect. So when highschool came along and I had another tabula rasa, I made the most of it and changed myelf (slightly) again. It worked through highschool and three semesters of college, then I needed another change. Now I've been pretty much the exact same person for a year and a half, and I think I've hit the jackpot. This isn't to say that I'm a different person from what I was in 7th and 8th grade. Since the summer after 6th grade, I've been myself the whole time. I became myself in that summer. But I've presented different faces to the world since then.
And what of the future? Maybe I'll have to change the way I deal with the world once again. But I have a feeling that such a change will be a minor matter of cosmetics. As it is, I am content with myself. I can deal with everyone that I meet. I have discovered the elusive secret of how to talk to girls ( ;) ). I get along with most people. And I have an easy way to give a long story explaining difficult questions.
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