Just do it. You're going to die anyway.

That’s the motto I’ve adopted. There will come a time when I’m on my last breath, on my deathbed, with tubes weaving in and out my throat and nostrils. I don’t want to lie there contemplating if I had a life well lived. So I might as well do what my heart desires before that sense of regret.

Suffice to say, I haven’t been this giddy in years.

Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever been given a chance to be giddy. There was that time in seventh grade when my English teacher volunteered to get me a birthday cake. My first ever, a fruit cake. It was delicious.

But this time feels different. Yesterday ended with a short trip to the nail salon, where I had a manicure, my first ever in, well, forever. I’ve always wanted gel nails, dark red in color. They’re much better on me than they were in photos. I can’t stop staring at them. They’re just perfect.

Then I scheduled a quick trip to the thrift store this afternoon. You’d be surprised how expensive commercial stores are. But I’m on a budget which I need to stick to, and the thrift store actually has the most priceless pieces of clothing. There’s a cardigan with pieces of cherries sewn onto them, a really cute sundress, a lengthy skirt, blue tennis shoes.

If I were any richer, I’d be an actual problem.

But I want more color in my wardrobe, so I start off hunting for clothes in my favorite color: blue. Not much available, but there are others of the like. Lavender, turquoise, purple, pink, the rest. All things pastels. I’ve always loved pastel. And magenta. It does wonders for my brown skin.

And then came the real issue. Frankly, I didn’t think it would give me this much trouble, but I always heard that practice makes perfect. So I’m trying not to think too much of it.

But why the hell does it look like that? Cakey, blotchy, muddy. I followed the video down to a T, didn’t I? Or did I? I have no clue. Maybe I missed a step or two. My face looks horrendous.

A soaked sponge. That's what I look like. My make-up is a disaster. I thought it would be somewhat tasteful for my first time, but that’s far from it. How does Jenny have hers look so effortless?

I grab the make-up remover and douse my face down, determined to try again, do a better job. It’s less blotchy, but it isn’t perfect by any means. Progress? I’ll take it for what it is.

I’ve had enough of the make-up guru. There’s something else I’ve also wanted to try: roller skating. It piqued my interest back in middle school when we had it as our main event for field day. Except to gain access, you had to pay a fee, and I was no fool to think my mother would lend me the money. So I missed my chance.

That’s exactly where I’m heading this early evening, to the skating rink. Since my attempt at make-up fell short, I apply lip-gloss and do the best to shape my eyebrows. And then for the first time, I dress myself up in something that isn’t gray.

Short denim jeans, white turtleneck, an oversized blue sweatshirt. White tennis shoes to match. Not a gray in sight.

I smile at the mirror. Not to brag, but I’m actually pretty cute.

The skating rink, however, is a different story. Why did they all choose this specific time and place to skate? There’s a line, and not a fast one at that. If I knew it would be this hectic, I would have rescheduled.

But then the momentum would fade away. So I stick it out. There’s a group of kids in front me, and from what I can tell they seem to be very stimulated from the bustling atmosphere. I paint them out to be middle schoolers from their vocabulary. Very limited.

There’s three of them, and the fourth one is actually right behind me. He taps me on the shoulder for some message. “Excuse me. Can I cut in front of you? My friends are right there and we’d all like to wait together.”

The rest of his friends all turn to me, awaiting my response with this look in their eyes. I swear they could pass for chipmunks.

Aww. “No.”

I’ve been waiting for minutes. I can’t give up my place now. Plus, It’s just about my turn.

What I don’t expect is how slippery the skates are. Granted, I’ve never skated, but I never thought it would be that challenging. I couldn’t be any more wrong. What’s even more humbling is the fact that my skates are four-wheelers, and yet the kids from earlier seem to be doing just fine with inline skates. Leave it to them to rub it in.

And they don’t hold back. They’re there when I clumsily fall after trying to propel myself forward, laughing, ridiculing me. They must be having fun with their stupid little smirks and obnoxious laughter. Don’t they have a curfew? Where are their parents?

This sucks. I can’t believe I’m competing with kids.

I should have asked Jenny to come along, make things more fun. I don’t think she has enough time for me these days, though. She hardly replies to my texts, and don’t get me started on the missed phone calls. I just want my best friend back.

After falling flat on my ass and making a fool out of myself, I decide to end the show. I’m getting the sense that everyone present is starting to make bets on how long I can stand before tumbling down again. But at least I tried. Thought, it would be more fun if I knew what I was doing.

And yet, I don’t call it quits. I’m not ready to. It’s been at the back of my mind that there’s a planetarium on campus, open on the weekends only. So I make a short trip out of it and arrive right before the first show starts.

The place is dark; I have no way of knowing which seats are open. I settle down somewhere to the side with my head back, gazing at the ceiling, at the specks of light, the varying colors. The view takes us into a pod of universes, which is full of more vibrant colors than I’ve ever seen. Then it zooms into our galaxy and takes us on a trip around the solar system.

When it hits earth, it spins around the globe, enlarging it so we can see the lights woven together by humanity. It’s so close and grand, I feel like I can reach up and grab it. Then it begins showcasing the continents, and as it does so, it zooms in to various parts of the world.

These places are all beautiful. The landmarks, pieces of nature, major cities, all of it. There was a time back in middle school when I made a list of places I’d always wanted to visit, places that looked ethereal, too wonderful to be considered real. I’m not sure what happened to that list.

I’ve never been outside of California. Hell, it’s my first time away from home, and if I hadn’t chosen life as a college student, I’m very certain I’d still be there. But I always figured there was more out there, and that I just needed a way to see it. I just never thought I would make it past twenty. 

But now that I’ve beaten that age by a year, perhaps there’s still a chance. The show continues on with an overview of the stars. Plentiful, they are. It captures most of them anyway, mesmerizing the crowd in the process.

Reminding me that I’m only one part of a whole.