Inaugural Post

First, I must preface this exercise in narcissism by wishing you a happy new year. I know that technically that is a phrase one hears on the first of January, which by now is yesterday, but I don't care. I think I'm close enough. It must also be disclosed that I have never blogged before in my life and as I wasn't the type to compulsively journal every day after school either, this blog has the potential be pretty awful, or miraculously decent.

So, with that disclaimer out-of-the-way, let's jump in to the excruciatingly painful experience that will be my first post. As I don't really know what to talk about I guess I'll just overshare a little too much and talk about myself...sorry.

Deep breath...

I'm twenty-two years old (a whisper away from twenty-three) and I'm completely directionless. Think Dustin Hoffman's Benjamin Braddock in The Graduate (Mike Nichols, 1967) ...minus the sleeping with the neighbor's wife and then falling for her daughter part. God, it's frightening how much I can relate to his character. Shiver. I think, or rather hope, that many individuals close to my age who have graduation looming over their heads can relate, and if not, will at the very least sympathize with my plight. Technically, I could have graduated this semester; however, as I'm unsure about what the hell it is I want to do I'm attempting to milk my university education into another to buy myself some time to make a decision about my future. Whoever determined that a person in their early twenties would be clear-sighted and mature enough to decide what to do with the rest of their lives was a real asshole!

To my own indecisive and timid nature add the outside pressures of my family and you can imagine the stress I'm experiencing. Although my parents claim to not care about what profession I pursue I know that what they really want is for me to attend law school. I honestly don't think that I'm incapable of succeeding in this particular field, but the grown-up connotations of such a career path terrify me. I've watched my parents work their asses off as educators (in my opinion one of the most under-appreciated professions) for the entirety of my existence and I've seen how unhappy my father is with his career. That is exactly what I don't want to submit myself to. I don't want to be exhausted and depleted of all enthusiasm at twenty-seven. The dream, as unrealistic as it is, is to work in some capacity in the film industry. One of my majors (yes, I have more than one as another means of avoiding making a definitive decision about my life) is in film and media studies. I have loved every minute of the courses I've taken to obtain this particular degree. My professors seem to genuinely enjoy their careers and have an exuberance that makes me envious. I want that, but I don't know how to get it. I'm too nervous a person to pick up everything and relocate without any justification for such a drastic move. I need a reason...specifically a job to move for and even that isn't a guarantee in the notoriously vicious Hollywood. Here lies the dilemma. Does a person make the safe choice, the choice that practically guarantees a financially stable existence complete with nice clothes, vacations, and homes, or does one chose the path that is infinitely more uncertain but has the potential to more enjoyable and allows you to preserve your youth? I honestly don't know what to do. Ideas?

Wow, sorry that this inaugural post was such a heavy one...and long. Actually, I pretty much whinged throughout the whole thing. Oops! I don't think most of my posts will be like this but I think it's clear I kind of needed the catharsis of writing about my feelings.

I suppose that is more than enough for one post - maybe even two or three - so I'll leave you with something lighter and more enjoyable. Again, happy new year. I hope 2012 exceeds all your expectations.