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"An active involvement in an activity or exposure to events or people over a period of time."

It's key purpose.

"To increase the range of our knowledge and skills."

Sounds simple, doesn't it? But no matter how you define it, doesn't the concept of experience seem a little daunting at times? Clearly, it's a primary attribute that every person is expected-- and perhaps meant-- to earn in his or her lifetime. But what about those of us who can't seem to gain enough experience? Or worse, what about those of us who can't seem to benefit well by it? What if the experience we gain in life is worthless?

Mind you, I do feel secure about my basic life experiences. For example, I solemnly advise anyone to look both ways before crossing the street. I also believe it's a stupid idea to stick a silver fork inside a plugged toaster. And thanks to my recent fascination with health magazines, I now make a concious effort to eat healthy (sometimes) and excercise (once in a while).

But when it comes to my major life experiences, I can't help but to feel utterly inexperienced.

Later when I was five years old, my parents decided it was time to leave the U.S. so that my younger sister and I could experience foreign cultures and lifestyles. Consequently, this nomadic upbringing kept us from experiencing a normal American childhood. By the time we finally returned to the States, my personal mind and psyche was traumatized by the primitive ways of suburbia. Meanwhile, my body began to cope with the early stages of puberty.

In other words: I found myself doomed to life as a teenager with angst. (You know, it's kinda funny how no one can truly escape the akward experience of adoslescence; perhaps this is the one and only consistency in life.)

Anyhow, since moving back to the country, I've spent the majority of my life in the Dallas area. Lately, I've also taken to experiencing life in New York City. Frankly, I'm not sure where my life experiences will lead me to next. Maybe I should continue traveling, or maybe I should consider getting a real job. Then again, maybe I'd be better off renting a roach infested apartment and doing something more sensible and productive-- like writing a crappy novel or pursuing my acting craft in vain.