In Which the Brat Pack Remains Timeless

Well. I did it again, folks (that is, of course, assuming there is more than one person in the universe reading this). It's been well over a year since I last posted and, well, it's been a year.

 I stumbled upon that last post a few weeks ago, and was struck by its hopefulness. Not that I'm not hopeful or optimistic now, but I think there's a special class of positivity reserved for those first few weeks after college when you're not quite sure what you're going to do but you know it'll be great and you know that your friends--the ones you've pulled all nighters with and the ones you've went abroad with and the ones that you were not even embarrassed to be seen eating more than one buffalo chicken wrap in the cafe the day after halloween in baggy sweatpants and baseball caps with--will be there with you the whole way.

Now standing on the other side of that year, I can say that not all of that is true. Sure, you'll be hopeful. Of course! How could you not be--around every corner is a new possibility. And sure, you'll know what you want to do. But then the next day, it'll be something different. And the day after that? Who knows. And maybe one day, you'll wake up and realize that the grad program you're in--the one you've dreamed about and seemed perfect on paper--isn't want you want anymore. But maybe you'll luck out and there'll be another program you love and it won't be too late to transfer. Maybe you won't. But the day after that? Who knows.

I'm sitting here at my desk looking around. With few exceptions, all of the pictures I have hanging up are of me & my college friends. In these snapshots, we're abroad, we're wine-touring, we're climbing over one another in ridiculous halloween costumes, we're laughing, we're graduating; we're happy. The same 5 or 6 people pop up several times; when I think about college, they're the first ones that come to mind. They're the ones who really made those four years, they're the ones who literally held me up when I could not stand or breathe or think on my own after getting bad news, and they're the ones whose houses I would just sort of show up at and be welcomed in, even if they weren't having the best day (or, in some cases, even if they weren't even home)to watch movies or eat dinner or just do nothing. They are, unequivocally, the best. Of those 5 or 6, I've only spoken to 3; I've only seen those same 3. I've only had a real conversation with two. I've missed new jobs and new boyfriends and the end of college and the end of grad school for some. Things like that are, of course, a two way street. So they haven't heard my stories of the great triumphs and minuscule failures--and vice versa--of this year. Of the inevitable ups and downs of post-grad life. I'm not bitter, but it's a fact. We all sort of lost out on that one.

So, a year out. And this is where we are. So. What's the point of all of this? St. Elmo's Fire. One of my roommates no, one of my friends has been after me to watch this movie for a year. A full year. And I didn't see it til now. And now, I get it. Now I understand why my roommates greeted me with looks of sympathy and the suggestion that "This year's gonna take a lot of wine." I think, at least, I'm beginning to. Everyone thinks everything just comes together after college. But if it didn't in the 80's, it certainly won't now.

And that's not to say that things don't, just that...a "coming together" implies that things were once apart. And that's where we all are. We're gathering our own things for the first time and figuring out how they fit. And sometimes they won't. Sometimes you just have to give in and realize that the effort you put into something wasn't enough to make it work. But really, isn't it better that way? Why struggle to fit in a piece that won't fit--a piece that would take the place of what should be there?

I'm getting way off point here, I think, but--was there a main point to begin with? Immediately after the movie finished, I wish someone had warned me about this year--not that it would be awful, because it hasn't been! But that it would be difficult and, at times, unbearably volatile. But now that I think about it, a warning would prevent and, maybe, negate the growth. Being debased is uncomfortable, but finding your footing--or even beginning to--can be the best feeling.

So, in conclusion: Stop making up drama, realize that things are gonna change, and remember that although you eventually move on from it, the beginning is the most important part.