Tue 18 Mar 2008
13 answers so far!
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Big Big Question is a Josh Millard project.
I wanted to be an artist. And I am (part-time anyway).
I’m looking forward to Tube’s answer on this…
The first thing I was ever going to be was a chef…and then a food critic.
Then I decided, “Nahh. I want a 9-5 job,” and went to school for Mass Communication.
Now…I’m going to culinary school part-time. Funny how that worked out!
Somewhere at my mom’s house is the drawing I made in kindergarten in answer to this very question. I was going to be a janitor. (My backup job was an elevator operator.)
I wanted to be an obstetrician. Then a midwife. Then a labor-delivery nurse. Then a doula. Now I work in computers. *shrugs*
When I grow up, people will still be asking me this very question…not that that’s a bad thing. My friend once told me that when she was a kid, she wanted to grow up to a mountain
Taller.
Oooo, I like this one! First, I was going to marry Davy Jones of The Monkees. Then when I became too tall for that, I was going to be a veterinarian, but my guidance counselor told me I was teh suxor at math, so’s I should pursue something more, like, verbal. Then I went to college, decided not to grow up, and therefore, worked out a way to stay on a campus for the rest of my sorry life.
A writer. I was so upset at my parents for trying to explain to me that you don’t “become a writer” and how it’s not a job etc. etc., especially since the Chinese word for writer has the same suffix that a lot of other professional positions have. If that makes sense.
So here I am, in Business school. Having my interest and creativity being kicked out of my by stats and accounting. :P
I loved science as a child, with Mr. Spock becoming an obvious role model. I think by the time I was in the third grade or so I read a biography of George Washington Carver and decided I wanted to be a biochemist.
When I was young, I used to creep downstairs and watch Johnny Carson over my Dad’s shoulders. One night, he interviewed a famous author (I can’t remember who), and I decided I was going to write a bestselling book and become a guest on the Johnny Carson show.
When Johnny Carson died, a little piece of me died too.
In college, I was going to be a stage lighting expert. I was going to move to NYC and join the International Brotherhood of Light, or whatever the union for lighting experts is called. Then I dropped out due to having a child and joined the wonderful world of work.
Now I’m back to writing. Maybe I will never finish a novel, but I am making (some) money at writing. Which is so much better than having some snotty woman drop a 200-page document on my desk and saying, “could you run and copy this for me dear?”
Copy this, bitch.
I was going to be a great mathematician. When I found that I wasn’t going to be great (when math started getting hard, somewhere in sophomore year of college) I said fuck this, I’m moving to the language department where at least I can have fun.
I was going to work at a habitat for big cats and, this is important, direct the annual staff-produced play, Beauty and the Beast. What happened to this perfect vision!?! A raisin in the sun, I tell you.
By high school, I wanted to be a movie critic. Then in college, I got
religiontheory, although now that I’m talking about getting a Media Critical Studies MA, people seem to think I’m going to… be a movie critic. Could happen.Truck driver. Life on the road sounded exciting.
Then I was an engineering major for a few semesters. It was fun but I realized it was not a good choice for me, as a dreadfully shy socially inept sort of kid.
Then I decided to quit school and run away to Key West and wait tables and have adventures until I knew what I wanted to do with my life.
But then I went to Key West, and they had not only touristy restaurants but also pharmacies. I’d worked at a hospital over the summers and had vague notions that healthcare was not unpleasant and drugs sounded interesting. My mom pointed out that I could probably have much better adventures with a profession than I would struggling to make ends meet. She was right. (And I was a sheltered wuss with no idea how to find a job or place to live in an unfamiliar town. This would have been a brief and unsuccessful endeavor.)
Whether I am now a grown up is debatable.