It's been weighing on my mind lately what I should do with my life. Up until a certain time in our lives, we don't control the steering wheel. Yes, we choose our classes in high school, choose friends out of our hometown groups and associations, and have some say regarding the college or vocation we go into, but there is a lot of hand holding (at least for us lucky ones) from teachers, counselors, parents, along the way. Once you graduate college/enter the real world, are financially stable, and have tied up the loose ends from childhood, you take a second to stare down the horizon, and realize that there are no more flashing lights directing you where to go. You have complete freedom to realize your dreams, pursue your goals, fall in love with whomever and whatever you want.
You also have the freedom to do nothing. To be alone. To wander aimlessly. To fail.
One of the biggest realizations I've made so far in life is that freedom is scary. Maybe not for some people, guided by convention and the "shoulds" and "should nots" of life, but for people like me who see a truly blank slate, the only thing keeping you from failure or propelling you to success is you. It's exhilarating to be sure, but it's scary as hell.
I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world, but it's interesting to me that one of the things I crave most is what causes me the most anxiety on a day-to-day basis. If the dark underbelly of freedom and independence is fear, I'll still take it, but sometimes I wonder if I'm the only one who gets it, and who is scared to death about which way to go.
More thoughts on this to come.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Friday, January 15, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
FaceBook - Helping Us Bridge the Generational Divide
A lot of people bitch about their parents/teachers/pastors/bosses being on facebook, but one thing I really appreciate about this trend is that I have had the opportunity to get to know some really cool older women who I would never have had the time, reason, or ability to reconnect with if I was living in the days of face-to-face contact, telephones, and letters.
One of my favorite people I have gotten back in touch with is my high school English teacher, Mrs. H. (shown below - she was kind enough to post this AMAZING pic on her facebook page.)
We sort of had a rivalry back in the day because I was a naive Christian Conservative, and she was an outspoken unrepentant liberal.
One time, she asked me during a fire drill if she was going to hell. Not knowing what to say, I explained that "If you believe the Bible, Jesus is the only way to heaven." (Laughably, at the time I thought this was a VERY diplomatic way to handle the situation.) She of course pressed the issue, saying "then you think I am going to hell!?" And I said again, "I don't know, I'm not here to judge, but the Bible says you need Jesus to go to heaven."
The next day, I found out that the sole topic of discussion in her other classes was my outlandish accusation that "Mrs H was going to hell."
I think she was mad about it even days later, because as part of a vocab lesson, Mrs. H taught 2nd Period that I was the definition of the word "Verbose."
In spite of her ability to talk some shit, or perhaps because of it, Mrs. H became one of my favorite teachers - she was funny and smart, she spoke openly about the time she hit on Michael Richards at a ski resort in front of her husband, and, as I said before, she could talk shit like a pro.
We reconnected over the last couple of months online, and she was very pleased to see that I had "come over to the dark side." If she and I were the same age, and had gone to the same high school, or lived in the same town, we'd probably be the best of friends. But we live hours apart and have at least 10 years between us - if this was still the 90's, I don't think I would have gotten this opportunity to be her friend.
As it is, I've loved having a chance to get to know Mrs. H as a real person. We even ganged up on some Conservative douche bag recently who hijacked a thread to claim that the gays are "the vanguard of accepting all sorts of dubious and harmful behavior" and that there would be "no equality if it weren't for the guiding principals of Christianity." It was nice to have a teacher on my side in that argument, although, it's futile to try and change a religious fanatic (but that's another blog post.)
One of my favorite people I have gotten back in touch with is my high school English teacher, Mrs. H. (shown below - she was kind enough to post this AMAZING pic on her facebook page.)
We sort of had a rivalry back in the day because I was a naive Christian Conservative, and she was an outspoken unrepentant liberal.
One time, she asked me during a fire drill if she was going to hell. Not knowing what to say, I explained that "If you believe the Bible, Jesus is the only way to heaven." (Laughably, at the time I thought this was a VERY diplomatic way to handle the situation.) She of course pressed the issue, saying "then you think I am going to hell!?" And I said again, "I don't know, I'm not here to judge, but the Bible says you need Jesus to go to heaven."
The next day, I found out that the sole topic of discussion in her other classes was my outlandish accusation that "Mrs H was going to hell."
I think she was mad about it even days later, because as part of a vocab lesson, Mrs. H taught 2nd Period that I was the definition of the word "Verbose."
In spite of her ability to talk some shit, or perhaps because of it, Mrs. H became one of my favorite teachers - she was funny and smart, she spoke openly about the time she hit on Michael Richards at a ski resort in front of her husband, and, as I said before, she could talk shit like a pro.
We reconnected over the last couple of months online, and she was very pleased to see that I had "come over to the dark side." If she and I were the same age, and had gone to the same high school, or lived in the same town, we'd probably be the best of friends. But we live hours apart and have at least 10 years between us - if this was still the 90's, I don't think I would have gotten this opportunity to be her friend.
As it is, I've loved having a chance to get to know Mrs. H as a real person. We even ganged up on some Conservative douche bag recently who hijacked a thread to claim that the gays are "the vanguard of accepting all sorts of dubious and harmful behavior" and that there would be "no equality if it weren't for the guiding principals of Christianity." It was nice to have a teacher on my side in that argument, although, it's futile to try and change a religious fanatic (but that's another blog post.)
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Bad Things I Do That Cause Me No Guilt Pt. 1
I have a confession to make.
I have no dishwasher.
Yes it's true - I am poor.
To make up for this disturbing fact, I frequently come to work with my dirty dishes from the day before to load in the office dishwasher. The following day, I return and claim my dishes (which are somehow always neatly stacked in the cupboard.)
The fact that they are always put away in the same spot makes me wonder if someone knows what's up.
I should feel bad, but I don't. As I said, I have no dishwasher.
I have no dishwasher.
Yes it's true - I am poor.
To make up for this disturbing fact, I frequently come to work with my dirty dishes from the day before to load in the office dishwasher. The following day, I return and claim my dishes (which are somehow always neatly stacked in the cupboard.)
The fact that they are always put away in the same spot makes me wonder if someone knows what's up.
I should feel bad, but I don't. As I said, I have no dishwasher.
On Aging, Maturity, and the Complexity of DVDs
So it's 6am, and I am trying to understand the complex relationship between self-perception, reality, and time.
Although my brain has been convinced that it's 33 since I was 10 years old, and the voice in my head hasn't changed much since puberty, I can consistently look back and see that my actions belied the maturity I thought I possessed. It leads me to speculate - if I was wrong about myself at 10, wrong about myself at 15, wrong about myself at 20, what reassurances can my 25 year old self have that I am not making an ass of myself on a daily basis? That my thoughts are actually reasonable and sound?
And that is what maturity is, I imagine. That day when the thoughts in your head mesh with reality as you imagine them to do. You hit the magical age when everything falls into place.
That thought is reassuring, but only until I consider the flip side - senility. In my opinion, most people over 70 (maybe in today's world 80) are completely out of touch with reality, rigid to the point of crazy, and win the dubious "Most likely to bitch about the Jewish/black/gay family down the street" award. They are also the most likely group of people to complain the world is going to hell, vote against money for schools, and take issue with the DVD player, in spite of the fact that DVDs have been around for over a decade, and are hardly considered "new" technology or difficult to use.
Is there a window of time when you have it all figured out? When you are a reasonable, and highly functioning member of society? When you are finally considered "wise?" Someone who can confidently go forth, knowing they aren't leaving a massive trail of fucked-up behind them? Is that window smaller than we all think?
On that note, this is my favorite picture of Grandma P. - after our other elderly neighbor backed her car into the front yard. Is this the best we can hope for after a long and well lived life?
Although my brain has been convinced that it's 33 since I was 10 years old, and the voice in my head hasn't changed much since puberty, I can consistently look back and see that my actions belied the maturity I thought I possessed. It leads me to speculate - if I was wrong about myself at 10, wrong about myself at 15, wrong about myself at 20, what reassurances can my 25 year old self have that I am not making an ass of myself on a daily basis? That my thoughts are actually reasonable and sound?
And that is what maturity is, I imagine. That day when the thoughts in your head mesh with reality as you imagine them to do. You hit the magical age when everything falls into place.
That thought is reassuring, but only until I consider the flip side - senility. In my opinion, most people over 70 (maybe in today's world 80) are completely out of touch with reality, rigid to the point of crazy, and win the dubious "Most likely to bitch about the Jewish/black/gay family down the street" award. They are also the most likely group of people to complain the world is going to hell, vote against money for schools, and take issue with the DVD player, in spite of the fact that DVDs have been around for over a decade, and are hardly considered "new" technology or difficult to use.
Is there a window of time when you have it all figured out? When you are a reasonable, and highly functioning member of society? When you are finally considered "wise?" Someone who can confidently go forth, knowing they aren't leaving a massive trail of fucked-up behind them? Is that window smaller than we all think?
On that note, this is my favorite picture of Grandma P. - after our other elderly neighbor backed her car into the front yard. Is this the best we can hope for after a long and well lived life?
Our Nature Lies in Movement
It certainly does. At least my nature.
Even as I write this, my leg is shaking, I'm tapping the keys as I reflect upon the next word I'll put on the page, and a quarter of my brain is considering getting up to take a trip around the building to see what's going on. Call it ADD, but I prefer to say that my brain has a high-processing speed. Sometimes I feel like the rest of the world is moving way too slowly, and that my time is constantly being wasted waiting for it to catch up.
Movement is important - it's one of the things that sets us apart from the dead. But along with physical movement, I think emotional and psychological movement are important as well. I believe that ending in a different place than where you started is inherently combined with growth as a rational and enlightened being. The more you do, the more you see, the more you MOVE, the more your brain will start to make the connections necessary to grow.
With that in mind . . . I have decided to pick up and move. To Europe. To experience life for 2 months as a broke European vagabond. This will DEFINITELY force some movement on all three fronts given:
I aim to cover at least 10 different countries in 2 months (if not more)
I never do anything by myself
I am a huge control freak and experience extreme anxiety when I have no control
Here is my initially proposed route (major cities/sites along the way):
Month 1
Copenhagen
Month 2
FLY TO Munich
For me, the deciding factor was Grandma P. sitting on her couch upstairs, watching "Explore Europe" dvds and talking about all the things she'll never do. And that is the most terrifying thing in the world.
Even as I write this, my leg is shaking, I'm tapping the keys as I reflect upon the next word I'll put on the page, and a quarter of my brain is considering getting up to take a trip around the building to see what's going on. Call it ADD, but I prefer to say that my brain has a high-processing speed. Sometimes I feel like the rest of the world is moving way too slowly, and that my time is constantly being wasted waiting for it to catch up.
Movement is important - it's one of the things that sets us apart from the dead. But along with physical movement, I think emotional and psychological movement are important as well. I believe that ending in a different place than where you started is inherently combined with growth as a rational and enlightened being. The more you do, the more you see, the more you MOVE, the more your brain will start to make the connections necessary to grow.
With that in mind . . . I have decided to pick up and move. To Europe. To experience life for 2 months as a broke European vagabond. This will DEFINITELY force some movement on all three fronts given:
I aim to cover at least 10 different countries in 2 months (if not more)
I never do anything by myself
I am a huge control freak and experience extreme anxiety when I have no control
Here is my initially proposed route (major cities/sites along the way):
Month 1
Copenhagen
Amsterdam
London
Brussels
Berlin
Prague
Vienna
CroatiaMonth 2
FLY TO Munich
Meet up with D-bo in Munich
Switzerland (Driving through the Alps)
Romantic Road, Bavaria, Rhine River Cruise
Venice
Florence
Rome
Cinque Terra
Nice
French Riviera
Barcelona
Ibiza
Paris
For me, the deciding factor was Grandma P. sitting on her couch upstairs, watching "Explore Europe" dvds and talking about all the things she'll never do. And that is the most terrifying thing in the world.
Monday, January 11, 2010
I'm Baaaaaaack - and More EMO than Ever Before
So – after taking a year off of “blogging” (as if two posts from last year really count as blogging) to find my voice, I am in the same exact place I was when I began – stoned and voiceless. I have too many thoughts rushing through my head to choose a path, and an unparalleled inconsistency in my motivation. I suppose I can say I am much less stoned than I was a year ago, now that I am a contributing member of society. Other than that . . . not much has changed.
A multitude of crappy, boring writers have joined the ranks of bloggers to congest the Internet with their earnest, misspelled ramblings, so I figure I should try my hand again – at least I've got a basic understanding of grammar working in my favor.
2010 is going to be a year of discovery. I am finally 25 – an age that carries weight, respect, gravitas, etc… with absolutely no one – but I feel different than I did before. Maybe this is because my upstairs roommate is 80, but I have recently begun to notice that life is ticking by, and all that waits in the end are your own questionable odors, dead lovers and friends, orthopedic shoes, a constant need to putter aimlessly, saggy boobs, loss of social skills and street smarts – oh – and death.
Seeing the end of the road makes a person feel that they better seize the day while they fucking can.
Whatever the cause, I have recently developed a sense of urgency about figuring out the point of my existence, and I am ready to get down to business. Finding some answers, discovering what life is all about, and all that noise.
This blog is mostly for me (sorry to disappoint) but it’s also for all the people out there who realize that even if there are no answers to the questions we ask, we can’t stop asking them. For all the people who find ambiguity necessary and terrifying. For all the people who are bogged down by their constant need to make connections between the seemingly random events in life. For all the people who subscribe to the theory that if you can just experience enough, the missing puzzle piece will appear and the whole universe will make sense. For people who live for adventure, and who have a craving to know more.
This is what my ramblings are devoted to. So long for now, we’ll see where this goes.
A multitude of crappy, boring writers have joined the ranks of bloggers to congest the Internet with their earnest, misspelled ramblings, so I figure I should try my hand again – at least I've got a basic understanding of grammar working in my favor.
2010 is going to be a year of discovery. I am finally 25 – an age that carries weight, respect, gravitas, etc… with absolutely no one – but I feel different than I did before. Maybe this is because my upstairs roommate is 80, but I have recently begun to notice that life is ticking by, and all that waits in the end are your own questionable odors, dead lovers and friends, orthopedic shoes, a constant need to putter aimlessly, saggy boobs, loss of social skills and street smarts – oh – and death.
Seeing the end of the road makes a person feel that they better seize the day while they fucking can.
Whatever the cause, I have recently developed a sense of urgency about figuring out the point of my existence, and I am ready to get down to business. Finding some answers, discovering what life is all about, and all that noise.
This blog is mostly for me (sorry to disappoint) but it’s also for all the people out there who realize that even if there are no answers to the questions we ask, we can’t stop asking them. For all the people who find ambiguity necessary and terrifying. For all the people who are bogged down by their constant need to make connections between the seemingly random events in life. For all the people who subscribe to the theory that if you can just experience enough, the missing puzzle piece will appear and the whole universe will make sense. For people who live for adventure, and who have a craving to know more.
This is what my ramblings are devoted to. So long for now, we’ll see where this goes.
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