one small girl.

part of this whole growing up business is searching for answers. we try to find the insights that would give us solutions to the crazy world we're in, and we try to rationalize our entire outlook in order to not just survive, but thrive in the cynicism of our circumstances. a friend of mine who works inside the cold stark walls of a corporation was told a couple of months back never to trust anyone, while another friend is dealing with the thought that her ideal company might not be so ideal after all - a slap in the face for someone who has dreamt of working there for a very long time.

at the end of a very difficult week dealing with sharks and monsters, we all find comfort in the fact that there is a weekend to look forward to for release and relaxation. we kick off our shoes and complain about the nuances and niceties of the workplace, taking refuge in the familiar faces who have seen you through thick eyebrows and braces. in the middle of bursting into song, camwhorage and dancing the night away, we sigh and comment on how things have changed, how we all have had to adjust, how different the world is and how consumed by capitalism and careers each and every building in makati has become.

different words. same conversations.

by the end of the night, we shake all the drinks off our system and prepare ourselves for another long week of what we call being grown-ups. come monday morning, we jam our feet once again into toe-pinching, arthritis-inducing stilletos, squeeze ourselves into pinstriped slacks, and fall in step with the rhythm of the pace of young urban professionals, resigned to the fact that growing up means going to work. we begin to see signs of aging so early in our years - white hair, crow's feet, calloused toes. and it hasn't even been a year since we graduated!

all the hype back in college has led us all to one fatal illusion: growing up means independence. going to work, getting paid, getting headaches - all these form part of that phase when we are uprooted from neverneverland and are launched back into earth. school has prepared us for our tumultous crash down from the "second star to the right and straight on til morning," but not for the landing and the sights we'll see upon reaching the ground. work, in fact, isn't a sign of growing up; it's a sign of growing old.

i have no idea what growing up is all about. i don't know how much time it takes, or how much experience you need to able to say that you are grown-up. i don't know what kind of resume you have to have under your belt to be able to claim that you have a right to sit in the adult's table. is a semester of law school, or three years of living alone, or a year of work, or a couple of years of post-grad courses enough?

for sure, we graduates (this title is going to expire in march, by the way) have gone through revolutions inside our heads in the past 6 months. we've re-assessed, agitated, recreated and refired, to say the least, our notions and ideals of what adulthood would be like. numerous times have we all said that we missed college - someone once told me to enjoy college because it would actually be the longest break i'll have in life: old enough to be trusted, but not too old that we could still afford to be irresponsible; old enough to drive a car, but too young to pay for your own gas.

maybe growing up is not about getting lost in the future that we were brought up to live for. maybe it's about stepping onto uncertain ground, despite looking back and wishing for comfort zones that we never appreciated. maybe it's venturing onto unstable territory in spite of your desire to surround yourself with old reliables. maybe it's coping with the idea that there are no answers or ideals, that plans never work out, that flat tires can happen to you and gas stations are not reliable in times of car trouble. maybe it's putting a band-aid over that angry red blister on your pinky toe to be able to walk around in heels, or bringing a sandwich for lunch because payday is still two days away. maybe it's knowing that mothers don't know everything and the advice "time heals all wounds" and "this, too, shall pass" is just a catch-all phrase said when there's nothing left to say. in any case, i'll let you know when i get there.