I told myself that I wasn’t going to be one of the millions of people who start a blog after college. In fact I told other people, too. I publically declared that I wanted to find another, alternative outlet for all of my creative potential. But when I looked at the facts and started sketching out ideas it became increasingly apparent to me that the platform I needed was exactly the one that I was desperate to avoid. I don’t want to be here, Dear Readers, but I am. And I think that, at least for now, it may be the best place for me.
In a lot of ways, I am the cliché product of my own generation. I’m a single white female in my twenties, living with student loan debt and a roommate in a city that charges too much for rent, working a job where I legitimately get paid to collect money from other people, and I’m indifferent to – if not actually unhappy about – all of it. I don’t think it could get more cliché than that. Don’t get me wrong: I’m happy that I’m employed, happy that I have a place to live, and happy to have wonderful friends and family to spend my time with. But if there’s one thing that most twenty-somethings can agree on, it’s that having a completed checklist to account for your basics isn’t exactly the same thing as living.
I never knew exactly what it was that I wanted to do out of college. I majored in political science – which I loved – and minored in history, but left school with a more well-rounded education than what appears on my degree and resume. The classes I took in sociology, human sexuality, creative writing, anthropology, and French captured my attention just as much, if not more so, than the ones that I took for my degree. And there were classes in American Sign Language, digital media, economics, and English that I always wanted to take, but never had time for. I was the kid that legitimately loved to be in college, not for the parties and activities and freedom, but for the sheer joy of learning. So without any clear idea of what I wanted to do after graduation, I spent a lot of time thinking about my skills and my passions to try and piece together something that I could do with my life, both professionally and personally.
I write, both for myself and for others. I read everything from biographies to dystopian young adult fiction. I binge watch television shows like it’s a job and I keep a calendar of big movie release dates so I can go to midnight premiers. I follow world news and the opinion pages in the New York Times, Washington Post, NPR, Wall Street Journal, and the blogosphere at large. I like to travel and see things with my own eyes, even if it’s only in my own city. I like being a part of online discussions and staying ahead of the conversations. And, if I’m perfectly honest, I like knowing about things and understanding things, particularly before other people. I am not ashamed to admit that. I can’t count the number of times that I’ve read a book only to see it blow up on a bestseller list a few months later. Or how many times I’ve read an article about something only to hear it come up in conversation over dinner with friends the next day. How many times have I dissected a plotline or character from a book or show in terms of its overall connections and deeper meanings instead of just saying, “Yeah, that was a good episode?” And I can’t even recall the number of times friends have come back to me months or even years later saying, “I should have read/watched that when you first recommended it to me. You knew I would like it.”
I’m not saying all this to declare my hipster status or to pat myself on the back for being awesome. I bring up my latest obsessions with my friends and people I know not because I want them to know that, “I liked it before it was cool,” but because I enjoy talking about the things that I am passionate about and sharing them with others. I genuinely want other people to have the same experiences that I do with them; I want to know that someone else was moved to tears after a particular episode of a show or that the same moments in a story stand out to them. Or, if they had a different experience with it, to talk about the same thing from a different perspective.
So what am I doing here? The answer is simple: sharing.
I want this blog to be a place where I can talk about anything. Not in an overshare kind of way; I’m not here to bombard the Internet with woeful tales of my personal life. But I want to feel free to talk about anything that interests me here, out in the world wide web, where anyone who wants to can find it. I want to talk about a fascinating OpTalk piece from the Times. I want to tell my readers about the pumpkins that I carved for Halloween. I want to wax poetic about my fascination with Pixar animation and to go on at length about the changes to the X-Men franchise. I want to talk about first jobs and business attire and my unusually large collection of nail polish. I want to do something that makes my life more fulfilling. Because even a completed post-grad checklist (job, apartment, social life) isn’t satisfying my creative drive, no matter how happy I am to have all of those things in my life.
So follow along with me if you want, Dear Reader. This should be fun.