A Penny Doesn't Get You as Far as it Used To

I, the modernist, am a young twenty something on the verge of one of the handful of terrifying precipices that face us young twenty somethings in this glorious decade that bridges teendom and genuine adulthood (which I'm defining here as the final rejection of Target furniture and mismatched dishware). Anyway, the dangerous ledge to which I refer is college graduation. Cue the cheesy but effectively eerie Vampire movie:

Bum bum BUUUM.

So, as any responsible young lass would do, I've started a blog. Job search? Study for the GRE? Two words: Yea. Right. In some ways this blog is a creative release from all of the academic work I have 13 weeks left to complete. In some ways it's a scrapbook of the beginning of the end, or the end of the beginning, or the first days of the rest of my life blah blah blah. Whatever this era is, I want some documentation. But most overtly this is an outlet for the quarter life crisis that I suspect more than one of my readers has dealt with in one form or another over the past few years.

The quarter life crisis. An admittedly fictional social and psychological malady that manifests itself as anxiety, binge-drinking, and over sharing as a response to the mysterious and threatening future. Sometimes it leads you to exciting new places, like Morocco. And sometimes it leads you to the worst possible scenario, like a layover at an airport chili's in Ohio. But the crisis over the future is not the same as the future. The future will inevitably work out. Probably for the best. But Pt A to Pt B is a winding and dangerous road, filled with wild things (Maurice Sendak status) and pot holes and probably some pot. The journey is dangerous, made more so by our irreconcilable anxiety about what is coming next. But in reality it's like the field test in Men in Black. The things that look the most suspicious are the most reliable, and the things that seem the most innocent are pure evil.

Before I delve into this journey I should mention that I did not seek a degree or any alternative certification in psychology, sociology, anthropology, or feminist theory. I'm an English major, history minor. I love literature, world history, museums, and old music and my only qualifications to speak on the quarter life crisis is that I live my life in an intensely observant way and I'm experiencing the QLC on the daily. On both counts, I can only hope that something I share might help you, if not at least entertain or distract you for a while.

So whether you're joining this blogging adventure because you take pity on me, or you like what I have to say, or you like how I say it, or you find this to be a useful outlet for your newly risen angst against societal expectations, you are equally welcome. (though, full disclosure: anyone who is here primarily because they like my writing is my new favorite). I'm excited to get through this together. See what this year becomes. What this blog becomes. Because, after all, "I just want to bake a cake out of rainbows and smiles and all eat it and be happy. I have a lot of feelings." Indulge me.

XOXO Gossip Squirrel