Last night I read a Pitchfork interview with The National, a pretty awesome band which sings many songs that seem to reiterate my thoughts as a twenty-something. I always thought that the main singer Matt Berninger must be a friend I hadn’t met yet because he sung about how one wants to be idealistic about the world as a place for adventure but at the same time he twists it so you realize it’s false.

My favorite song by him is “Geese of Beverly Road” from the album Alligator. He says, “Hey love, we’ll get away with it. We’ll run like we’re awesome, totally genius….We’re the heirs to the glimmering world.” And yet, his deep voice sounds a bit sad, almost desperate. I mean sure, we can get away with whatever shenanigans we want and consider ourselves pure genius, but he clarifies with like we’re awesome. I could be stretching it, but I feel like you could replace it with “as if” because you can act and believe you are awesome, but in reality you have to be normal and boring and average to move through life, stay on everyone’s good side, etc. In his next line he says that we’re the heirs to the glimmering world. Why not a glittering i.e. sparkling world instead? Merriam Webster defines glimmer as “to shine faintly or unsteadily; to give off a subdued unsteady reflection”. Clever twist of words there. We’re heirs to a faintly flickering world. And that can be how the world feels sometimes, right?

Man Berninger, you are a bit of a pessimist—but really, you speak truth.

Is this a “thing” that twenty-somethings have to go through? An online comic which reflects much of the same thing is the thought-provoking and sometimes sobering “Cat and Girl.” This one really makes me laugh and cry in a sick twisted way because it’s really true especially if you went to college and majored in liberal arts. But, anyway, thinking about how in one’s twenties, one’s idealism is overshadowed by sobering reality is a bit depressing.

I’d like to think that people who ignore that and try to live life the way they want to turn into the most interesting people. Is it lame to end with another comic? I’ve been really getting into those.

Anyway, xkcd has a great response that pretty much says screw it and do what you want…right here.

Yes, the world is ugly and not as fun as when you were sixteen with a license, but you can make that world into whatever you want if you hold onto whatever you love and chuck the rest.
(it’s not easy but it can be done)

-JC

Wow!

In the past two days, two of my friends have gotten requests for interviews for med school. Add that to the news I had earlier heard about requested interviews, I must simply say...WOW!!!! Congratulations you guys!

(humorously, most of the people to whom I refer might not even read this, but when you have good news, you really can't help but share!)

Also, my first semester of grad school is finally officially over! And, all that I'm feeling regarding it apparently means I'm doing the right thing. :)

But back to business: congratulations to all! The future is scary, but we all pretty much turn out okay. (thank goodness!)

preferring bright futures over blind futures,

J-Choc

Ketchup?

Well, I figured I would write a catch-up on how the bloggers of this forsaken blog are doing. One (not me) is happily in a really great doctoral program in a paradise with happy people and all types of relationships. Lucky for both of us is that, although neither of us is in our hometowns, we are a simple two hours distance away from each other. Which is really nice when one gets lonely. =)

Well for my piece, I am instead in a Master’s program that should lead to a PhD. Well, “could” lead to a PhD. Who knows. Funding here sucks and the place sucks, so yeah, probably not going there for a possible doctorate. I can’t say this kind of stuff on facebook for example because I now have many a friend on there who goes to my school. Actually, my professors, peers, advisor, family, and even friends would be appalled to hear this next bit: Sometimes I don’t think grad school is all it’s cracked up to be. I used to think it was the program in which I am currently enrolled, and, if that were the case, that’s okay because I plan on getting a doctorate in something else. So, in spite of what follows it could be the program, and that is fixable. The thing is though, whenever I go to dinner with people from my class on Monday nights, go to these mixer things (because if I don’t, I won’t leave the apartment), or listen to people talk about their research, I get this sense of dread and thoughts start running through my head like: “What are the heck are they talking about and how does that relate to anything practical? Does anything I say relate to anything practical?” and then, specifically when they talk about their graduate school life, I think “Can I really do this kind of stuff for 5-7 more years? Why isn’t this interesting anymore?” So, what I’m saying is…ehh I don't know.

I should be thankful really. I am really lucky to be here. There are nice people here, and people are obviously very smart. Someday I'll be that too. I guess right now I'm humbled by all the brains around me.

I really really miss all of my friends, and man, they are the best a person could ask for--they humble me by how much they express their love. I don't know. God really, really decided to be nice and give me them. I've told a few how I've felt, and they've been pretty supportive. The funny thing is, these people make living here both bearable and unbearable.

Bearable because, for many, we chat and it's as if nothing's changed. They, sadly, make it unbearable because whenever I get off the phone or sign off, I remember that I'm not there with them.

Dang, that sounds pretty sad I'm sure. BUT it's more reason to keep on keeping on, so I can get out of here and hopefully (Ojala!) be lame and come right back there to get a doctorate. Not lame--just not good at saying bye. =) AND if I for some reason can't go back (b/c things usually will never be like it used to be), that's okay too. As long as I'm not getting a doctorate here... I am trying really hard to like it here, and I’m not avoiding interaction. I have to stick it out. And I will. Three more semesters, and I’m out.

Jchoc-it-up-to-I'm-probably-just-homesick

I shift my shaaaaape!

"Shape Shifter" by Local Natives is stuck in my head, but the song that really has stuck with me is "Who Knows, Who Cares" by the same group. Their beautiful vocals sing about how things change and you cannot really stop them; instead, you can only really depend on those circumstances to change. I am a bit of a personal control freak (for others I can be more lenient), and the thing that worries me is my transition to graduate school. Yep! I'm on my way to grad school--not law school, nor office job of some sort--grad school. That is very exciting and, in writing this, I feel a distinct sense of accomplishment for having made it period. (and really when I say made it, I mean that I am lucky to have made it) So far, I've been living like a impoverished intern, deciding between food and filling my car with gas. Next stop is grad school into the far blue yonder. And that next stop is coming up quickly. I am a bit afraid of the change--normally I see change as another sort of adventure--but for some reason, I am constantly chickening out. I have done the desk job thing, and I can't stand the lack of creativity it takes to punch numbers and talk about people's families while peering between pots of flowers resting on plywood covered desks. I need a job where I can think critically or do some research. That was my favorite part: researching for my job so that I could impart some knowledge to some 11 year olds I had to teach. In spite of my obvious distaste for the office life, sometimes I feel as if academia might become the same thing. I feel as if I am not ready for more paperwork, and that I may possibly stifle myself yet again. I think though that am verging on the brink of being nit-picky. You can only find self-fulfillment through so many ways, and everything becomes boring every once in awhile. Still, like I told a friend of mine, sometimes I just want to chuck it all, get a one-way ticket to somewhere in Southeast Asia, get some crazy local job, live and wander, and come back to America with grim mouth set in place by experiences and deep eyes hiding a view of life developed by a maturity cultivated by living alone. I don't know why, but I feel like what I am going to do very soon is somewhat limiting. Even though academia create stuff for journals, they have to kiss up to publishers and the big wigs who determine what cultural theories are in style. When and if I get a job in a professorial position, I'll have to teach to students who don't care about what I am passionate about, and I will have to write papers that don't offend certain academic dignitaries, do interest the right people, and do help me get tenure. Does it sound like I am ungrateful? If you asked me what I would want to do if money were no option, I would tell you that I would want to write. But I am not a good writer. It takes a lot to build up a repertoire of things to write about, and, unless I run away to Asia, I have no dark history or memory to build upon and write about the human condition. Maybe I am just nervous about putting myself into one category: that of the academic. It used to excite me to think that I could wear tweed and chat about my favorite post-Imperialist author. Now, I wonder if that will be enough. How can I know unless I go out there and begin my degree plan? I guess that that is a truth. I can't stand what I deem the mundane talk, and I barely talk as it is. Perhaps this will be a nice safe zone. A woman I worked with this summer who was around my age talked about how she aims to get married and teach little kids. To me, I cannot understand it. When people say, "well, blah-blah, I'll do this, and then I'll get married, settle down and have kids," I get wide-eyed inside and wonder "that's it?" Is it stupid to think that? Am I heartless or just not adult enough yet to think about having babies and jazz. It's just weird. I feel like a neophyte when it comes to grad school and the same for having kids. What's left? Maybe I am just hitting adult puberty and need to calm down until it's all over and I can finally settle into the "next thing." "Who knows, Who Cares" Local Natives serenades. Maybe I just need to let it go too.

-JChoked

Love is like quicksilver in the hand. Leave the fingers open and it stays. Clutch it, and it darts away. (Dorothy Parker)

It's all about that PR (personal responsibility)

Okay okay, so I am watching Moulin Rouge (for the second time), this crazy movie about true love overcoming all odds right. (Yay happy idealism and actually a movie that has nothing to do with the following subject matter really) Then I look around and see people with life pretty much well put together (or appear so--good fakers...) And then now I remember a conversation with the other contributor to this blog. I realize and know that I don't want to talk about the future (aka graduating from Adult Day Care...I mean, college). And no, I don't want to talk about it. I don't really want to talk about it. It literally makes me queasy. Okay, I take it back.
Well, am I the only one kinda freaked about this sort of thing? Not having life all together and yet being thrust into another transition, another future? Sure I've got plans, but do I really want to follow through with them? Will the pieces fall into place so that I can go through those plans? I guess you can't really worry about those things you cannot really change, but still, that's a pretty huge question mark.
And another thing, have I changed enough to handle these additional changes. I may be the age that I am, but am I ready? Is this typical talk from a graduating senior? Aack probably.
Inner perfectionist says "everything must make sense. everything must make sense." And it doesn't. I know that it won't.
But still, really?
I guess someday I will read this and laugh. That is, if I got accepted to even more schooling and then get a career and then can afford a good computer and a house and a car and pay off loans and pay my taxes and buy my groceries and get married and start a family.....
and the list goes on and on

JShocked

Blah-ddy Blah Blah

I think I have this notion in my mind that if I try my hardest, everything in life will eventually make sense. And maybe, due to circumstances that keep accumulating as I near graduation from college, I’m really supposed to learn the hard way that many times things just won’t. Make sense, that is. Deep, deep down inside of me I have discovered a perfectionist who finds the details in the chaos (just look at any aspect of my desk, hair, composure, etc…pretty much chaos) But to me it makes sense. All of it makes sense. People make sense. Situations make sense. Circumstances make sense. But more and more however, I am finding that all of these things will not make sense no matter how hard I try to make it so. A friend of mine told me that you pretty much have to just let things go and let time or the circumstance mend itself. While this would be the easiest, truer option, it is not easy to an inner perfectionist.

Relationships…family…career…status quo…staying “cool” under tough circumstances: all stuff I cannot understand. And yet, maybe I’m not supposed to really understand it—that would imply that all of these things are concepts to be “figured out” and thus turned into something predictable.

You know what’s not predicable? Having a bad day and then bumping into someone who brightens it for an hour and half. Trying to trust someone who has done things which are really untrustworthy. Finding a connection with someone you wouldn’t expect and then realizing that three hours felt like three minutes. Realizing that someone else’s life experience turns out to be just the thing you needed to hear.

The beauty of unpredictability is that it entails not only the possibly horrendous but also the stupendously marvelous occurrence that makes you stop and think, “I wasn’t expecting that!”

I don’t know what the moral of this tale is, but I don’t have to know…..yet.
—I mean, I can remain confident that some things, including morals, aren’t going to be understood.

Hello, Grey Area! My name is Jchoc.