In my twenty-six years on this planet I have gone through a few phases.
There was, of course, my twirly-skirt phase, beginning when I was about three, when I refused to get dressed in the morning unless it was in a twirly-skirt--or a skirt that, when I spun around in circles (a super-fun activity) flared out like a tutu. There was my very brief paleontologist phase when I would reconstruct chicken skeletons after our family had finished dinner. This was perhaps overshadowed by my brother's dinosaur phase during which he insisted on being called "Little Foot" (from The Land Before Time) for the entire duration of his preschool education. I had an awesome My So-Called Life phase in seventh grade, and dyed my blonde hair red, like Claire Danes did. This phase ended abruptly when a boy on whom I had an enormous crush told me my hair looked stupid. Nothing takes the fun out of edgy new haircolor like unrequited love. This was promptly followed by an "angry female singer-songwriter" musical phase--a lot of Ani Difranco and early Alanis Morisette.
I've had a few vegan phases over the past five years, but they always end when I realize that I'm depriving myself for the sake of deprivation--which is silly. I've had phases where I've sworn off caffeine and declared it evil and become totally self-righteous toward anyone who consumed the stuff--until I would break down and drink six cups of coffee in one sitting and find myself hooked again.
But lately, I've found that it's been awhile since I've had an actual phase.
I've been dressing pretty much the same way for the past couple of years, my hair has been mostly the same, save for some bangs or a few highlights. I've been listening to the same music, hanging out with the same friends--while making new ones steadily. I've been eating the same basic blend of whole grains, fish, soy, dairy, fruits and vegetables, and accepted that I like coffee and, as long as I don't overdo it, I can have it regularly. But yet, even though so much has remained the same of late, I don't feel stuck in a rut. Could it be that I'm finally settling into my authentic, adult self? Have I finally uncovered the True Gabi Moskowitz? Am I finally where I've been heading all this time? I don't know. Maybe.
Or maybe it's just another phase.