BLOG 602 is the latest project from Keep Alex Weird, an effort to write a 900-word essay each day until Jan. 7. This is the fourth entry.
Tonight was the annual boy’s basketball game between Bluffton and my alma mater, Norwell.
The whole crew went, which seems to be becoming a more regular occurrence these days, and the game actually didn’t disappoint. Norwell’s a little notorious for slowing the game down and playing a really really boring brand of basketball. Bluffton ran a fast-paced game though, and managed to keep Norwell frustrated enough to pull out a win.
Going to any high school event always makes me feel really old. I’m far enough removed from high school that I don’t know anyone at these things, and the fact that Graham is getting to that point is making my feel ancient.
Add to that the fact that I’m done with undergrad, and my place in the world is very, very confusing.
Watching high-schoolers hang out is incredibly painful sometimes. It’s a point where you think you’re the coolest thing ever, totally oblivious to the culture shock that is freshman year quickly approaching. The problem with watching high-schoolers isn’t that they’re obnoxious, though they may be, it’s that you can never be sure you weren’t just as obnoxious.
Undergrad’s something entirely different, when freshman year quickly forces you to re-examine your concept of self and come up with a new set of operating guidelines. The rest of the time, then, is figuring out exactly where that sense of self is going to take you.
Graduate school is interesting. Sitting at the game tonight, I realized that most of the people I went to high school with aren’t only done with undergrad, they’ve moved on to the real world, likely holding down something called a “job.”
Many of those people have settled a bit, into a steady job, paying either a rent or a mortgage, and likely into something resembling a real relationship. They’re definitely not dating eighteen-year olds.
Grad school is enabling me to extend my childhood and fight off the societal pressures of becoming more of an “adult.” I have no desire to be an adult.
Rather than holding down a regular 9 to 5 like most people my age probably are, I get to roll out of bed whenever I want two days a week, as long as I’m in the office by 6:30 p.m. The other days, I’m usually up by seven, but I have about six hours during the day when I can do whatever I want, including take a nap on the couch in the office. Rough life.
I’m also insulated from the real world because I spend most of my time on a college campus, a world I both belong in and am simultaneously not a part of anymore. My status as a grad student gives me everything I need to officially be a part of the system (student ID, employee number, paycheck) but because I have a degree, I’m removed from a lot of the drama. I’m not forced to go through gym class, I don’t have to take COMM 210, I don’t live on campus, and I’m not just adjusting to college life. In a lot of ways, I’m very much over college life.
Having said all that, being around so many people who are just adjusting to college is pretty awesome. It’s fun to be able to sit above all that and watch, not quite playing the role of an impartial observer and in some cases getting very much involved.
I’m legitimately friends with a couple of freshmen I've meant since being here, and they fulfill such a unique part of my life.
Their drama is huge drama, it’s drastic, life-threatening drama, and huge in a way those of us who aren’t college freshmen don’t experience anymore.
And some of them don’t have drama. Some of them just scoop great frozen custard.
So, I’m past high-school drama, past undergrad drama, not yet to real-world drama, and coasting here in grad school. It’s a fun place to be because, while there is drama, it’s the closest thing to “fun drama” I think I’ve ever come across.
Since grad school is such a short term experience, especially when you’re in a two-year master’s program, the promise of a chance to reset is right around the corner. Any situations I get myself in, I’ve got an automatic out in a year-and-a-half.
At least that’s how I used to think. Something’s been going on with me this last week or so, something I think that’s been brought on by trying to do this much writing, and I think I’m ready to get rid of the drama. The past few days I’ve been sending e-mails, making phone calls, and generally trying to let people know where they stand in my life. It’s a confusing process, it’s an uncomfortable process, but it’s a healthy one, and it’s one that’s let me be honest, really honest, with myself and other people for the first time in a really long time.
I’m not in high school anymore. I’m not in college anymore, and I’m not married and working on my 2.1 kids yet. I’m in grad school, surrounded by people younger than myself, who manage to make feel young and old at the same time. I’ve got responsibility, but still get help with the rent.
Keep your adulthood. I’ll be busy discussing Foucault and flirting with the girl in the drive-through.
