Surreality is a real word because Chel says so

There have been a few times in the past couple of months when an ominous and powerful sense of surreality has come over me, a feeling that has caused me to ask myself, "No, but really. Really. This is my life now?"

  

Yesterday it became especially noticeable when I got hit in the face with a vuvuzela. A vuvuzela is a kind of blowing horn that is used at sporting events in South Africa. This vuvuzela was being swung by an enthusiastic toddler, one who was also trying to blow raspberries to the tune of Tom Cochrane's 1991 seminal hit, "Life is a Highway." The toddler then proceeded to pat me on the back and say he was "sowwy." Which was nice of him, I guess, but surreal all the same.

Example Two: when I was in a liquor store with some friends, I was entertaining the idea of a "splurge" by buying a bottle wine with the Barefoot label, instead of the usual Charles Shaw. That extra dollar could be used for laundry!

Or last night when, after the splurge, I didn't have enough quarters to wash my clothes in a traditional washer and dryer (oh, life); instead I did it by hand in the kitchen sink, MTV's classic 16 & Pregnant playing in the other room. Because, if I have to pay that much for cable, Comcast, I am going to get my money's worth. (And then who will be laughing?!) Perhaps this is not so much surreal as unfortunate, but it is definitely telling.

It's after events like those mentioned above when I boggle at the fact that these are the events that now occupy my days. For some reason, the events that fill up the lives of people in their "twenties" on television seem rather different than what I'm currently experiencing. (Though, happily, I do finally look old enough to belong on the types of shows that are being targeted at teens because I am now the same age as the actors portraying them. Does that mean that my real-life thirties will actually look more like my twenties in tv years? Will I have to turn fifty before I appreciate CougarTown [if ever]?  Is television perpetually just a decade ahead of real life? I digress.)

Last weekend I peered at the piece of paper some call my "college degree," my name all nice and scripty, as well as some elegant latin that I don't understand. The "degree" was hanging on the wall in my parent's house, and it looked very imposing and awfully pretty, sitting up there all important-like like it meant something. And such a nice frame, too! Though I've yet to discern it's true purpose in my life, maybe it will be worth more in time, like a fine wine. That's what people keep saying to me, anyway. But I wouldn't really know, as I'm pretty sure Three Buck Chuck doesn't follow the normal vineyard aging process, and that's my main frame of reference these days.

People also have told me that personality is the winning factor in job interviews. So, on recommendation from monster.com, I have made a list. But instead of the traditional list of "qualifications," I've noted some stories that have made a lasting impression on me, and that (maybe) could be used as potential ice-breakers and charming anecdotes to secure the high-paying, jet-setting job of my dreams. This is a way more interesting list.

Things that set me apart from the crowd of job-hungry applicants/ reasons I am awesome:

• At my peak, I could hula hoop upwards of 5 hoops at one time. (My peak may or may not have been 4th grade.) 
• With an unbelievable amount of luck and star-alignment, I won the Western Massachusetts Free-Throw Competition and a shiny trophy half my height in 7th grade. I then competed in the state of Massachusetts Free-Throw Contest, and lost. Badly.
• I was a blacksmith one year in college, and made enough sculpted metal bottle openers to supply a small, drunken army. 
• I can play the piano, guitar, alto sax, trombone, flute, drums, and violin all decently well, due to amazingly supportive parents and, most likely, undiagnosed childhood ADD.
• I was once a promotions model at a historical museum. They paid me for use of my photographic likeness in non-alcoholic beer and mixed nuts.
• I lived on a boat for 4 weeks, clocking in a personal record of being seasick for 23 hours straight. If you don't think you can be seasick while you are sleeping, you are wrong.
• I once swam with sharks in the Bahamas, but found out only after my friends and I had gone cliff-jumping onto a deeper local reef. A local teacher, who was also swimming, told us about the sharks once we had already jumped in the water. The cliff was 20 feet high. The man was laughing.  
• Under the duress of the "double dog dare," I have swum nudely in the Northern Atlantic, Southern Atlantic, Pacific, Gulf, and Lake Michigan. (Why isn't swum a word? It is fantastic.)
• As is the case of many other idealistic young persons, I have written a novel. I like to tell people that the concept is "a modern take on "The Sun Also Rises," but after three failed attempts to finish that book, I'm not really sure if this is the case. 
• I can identify popular songs throughout the decades after just 5 seconds of listening with a deadly 89% accuracy, according to Sporcle.com. The last one won't really help me secure a job, but it will make me a highly entertaining travel partner, and that's what really counts.