You Win, Dustin Hoffman

A little over two years ago, I posted this entry about how I was so much more prepared for adulthood than Dustin Hoffman's character in The Graduate because I had a job lined up.

Ha! Tonight, I eat those words.

Let's say life is a 100 piece puzzle, and having a job comprises 10 pieces of that puzzle.  Attempting to figure out the puzzle despite 90 missing pieces (assuming the 10 pieces I have are consecutive pieces, which they probably aren't) would just be spinning my wheels.

Which brings me back to my idea that a lot of us have a Dustin Hoffman phase after college. Whether we admit to it is another story. 

The fact is, there's a good chunk of years where it's almost impossible to not be a drifter.  Other than having a job, my life is full of variables.  And, until I have some sort of direction, I don't want to make any major life decisions for the sake of feeling like I'm in control, and blow myself off course.  My hope is that I'll eventually drift onto whatever shore I'm unknowingly headed for anyway.

You might think I'm just being lazy, but I have a historical trend of screwing things up when I try too hard.

If you're going to be a one-trick pony, make sure your trick is half-way interesting

Why is it that every time I see someone I haven't seen in a while, and they ask me what I've been up to, the only thing I can think to say is 'working?' Then they ask what else I've been doing, and I awkwardly can't think of anything, and then the subject gets changed.

I know I've been doing fun and interesting things on weekends, but they all get buried and forgotten under the piles of paper I push around all week.

So, to whoever is in charge of sending the memo informing the world that I have gotten old and boring, could you please copy me on this memo and/or give me an 'I Am Old and Boring' t-shirt or sign to wear on my forehead? I just want everyone to know.

On Receiving Music

Whenever someone promises they'll give me music, I force myself to not get excited until they actually deliver on their promise.  Before you write me off as a cynic (though that also might be the case), hear me out:

Long ago (or not so long ago, depending on what you consider long), a certain boy promised me a flash drive with 1,000 of his favorite songs on it.  I was excited, obviously, and anxious to receive the goods.  The problem was, I was on the west coast and he was on the east coast.  I didn't want to be a nag, so instead of asking for the music, I mailed him mix-tapes of my own, in an attempt to rev his memory.  He'd always call me to to say thanks, and end the call with "Oh, I still owe you that flash drive!"

As things started slipping south (as things tend to do when a couple occupies two different coasts), I started actually asking him for the flash drive, in fear that I'd never get it otherwise.  First he complained that he didn't have a flash drive.  Then, once he got the flash drive, he didn't have an envelope. After about six months of this, I gave up.  

Then, one night, I was greeted with "I mailed the flash drive!" I was SO excited.  Every day, I waited by the window for the mail truck so I could immediately dart to the mailbox to see if the flash drive was there. Finally, a regular paper envelope arrived with my name written in his chicken-scratch handwriting.  I tore open the envelope.  Inside was a card, saying 'Here's the flash drive...I hope you like it...etc...,' but the flash drive wasn't inside.  I checked the envelope to see if it had fallen out of the card.  It was then that I noticed a flash drive-sized hole in the bottom corner of the envelope.  It had fallen out somewhere between New York and California.

I called him, almost in tears, because the flash drive that was going to save us had gotten lost in the mail.  He didn't seem as upset as I was, but promised he'd resend it. 

Guess what guys - he never did.

Toddlerhood

Happy second birthday to my adult life.

A whopping two June 6ths ago, I suited up for the first time and trudged into the real world.

Time, how did you fly by so quickly? No, seriously?

Here's to another ____ years at my job (the blank is because my current plan is to not plan, so I have not idea how many year(s) I'll stay).

Why not take a fake vacation?

My non-new album recommendation of the day is The Flying Club Cup by Beirut.  If you really want to take a long trip to Europe, but don't have the time or means, close your eyes and listen to this and it will almost feel like you're there.

Or, better yet, listen to this album and then take a long trip to Europe.

On My Shoulders

My only concern is my lack of concern for the fact that I am falling off the face of the earth.

Shoulder angel, who appears to have taken a mysterious leave of absence (and/or went on strike), would normally encourage me to climb back on.  Shoulder devil is perfectly content allowing me to get sucked into whatever black hole happens to be passing by until the universe decides to spit me back out.

Shoulder devil realizes that putting in a little effort never hurt anyone, and that's exactly why he doesn't want to.

It's a dilemma. 

Word

My blogging ability lately has been like that annoying and completely unnecessary setting on Microsoft Word that causes the text you're currently typing to delete and replace any text after it.

To explain: the annoying Microsoft Word setting is me attempting to write a blog post, and the words getting erased are the thoughts falling out the back of my brain as I type. I can't get through a post without completely forgetting the point of what I was saying.

So, many pointless, deleted entries later, this is all I got.