The Youth Electric

Now that I've finally gotten my shit together and started a Google Reader account, I've noticed an abundance of young people on this here the Internet. I know that I am technically one of them, and that complaining about this might be a tad hypocritical but please bear with me here.

I don't understand.

I keep up with a few fashion blogs and casually peruse a few of those Mormon housewife blogs. The latter are rather young, which would explain how they can keep up with their little children, bake a batch of gourmet cupcakes and somehow be aware of where to trawl for fabulous vintage clothing. I just, I don't... Okay. Whatever.

Some of those fashion blogs are run by high-schoolers or students who have just begun their post-secondary career. More than a few bloggers are hardly older than I am, and somehow they have found success on the Internet as they post their outfits that have been "thrown together" from the depths of their inherent fashion sense. They also attend fun-looking parties and manage to look effortlessly gorgeous all the effing time. Again: I just, I don't... Okay. Whatever.

To prevent this from becoming another generic rant-blog (those of which are most of the reason I stopped appeasing my Tumblr [i.e. cocaine] addiction), I shall post a story.

It was the 2000 Olympics, taking place in Sydney. It was a summer of watching the most athletic of the athletic race in oceanic water while discovering that summer sports were more diverse than I had ever previously considered.

One of the scariest realizations of my young life came when I was watching those gymnasts and their impossibly difficult routines. Most of the athletes were in their teens, not much older than I was at the time. Those cheesy pre-performance reels that talked about their humble beginnings and intense training careers? Yeah, those made me feel like shit as I sat on my living room couch stuffing another handful of Doritos into my mouth.

I bet she's not even allowed to have Doritos.

Even as a youngin', contrary to that prior image, I was relatively ambitious. I always raised my hand first, did extra projects, and basically did all that I could to be recognized by my superiors - the adults (this was before I realized that they too were flawed). At the same time, I always felt slightly inadequate. But isn't that what life is? Always feeling slightly dissatisfied with who you are or what you do?

I remember writing an entire (!) entry in my journal about the Olympics, about how I was a failure at 12 because I had not been awarded a gold medal at an overrated and somewhat-archaic international event. I thought that I needed to be so much more than just a kid. My thinking was always this: if you aren't the best, there's no use in existing. Cynicism doesn't get through to you when you're so young. Sometimes it's a bad thing.

I've kept remnants of that thinking as I've grown up. It's not the same anymore, though. My ambition has somehow evolved in that I don't have to be the best at the random things (like gymnastics) but I do have to be the best in what I'm doing.

Perhaps even my definition of "the best" has changed. Maybe I want success, but I want it to be recognized as exemplary. I want to be outstanding.

This is why I become so intimidated by these youth - the athletes, the fashion bloggers, the media moguls, the musicians and actors. I am not like them and I know that their success is beyond anything I can ever dream of.

Plus, it's pretty pathetic that I'm having an existential/quarter-life crisis about a bunch of people who might be slightly dissatisfied with their lives too.

When I Googled "quarter-life crisis," this is what I found.