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So, I guess instead of dreaming about what my life is going to be like, I'm at the point in my life where I'm living my dreams. It's crazy. It's a lot scarier and more surreal than I thought it would be: I submitted my first story to a magazine yesterday. I don't expect it to get published or anything, it's not something I'm too proud of and the topic was way lame that they gave me, but it's a start. I'm ACTUALLY doing it... or attempting to at least. Wow. I guess I can't say "when I grow up" anymore... unless we're talking about maturity levels...