What's a metaphor? I don't know, what's a meta-with you?

A week ago, on May 20th, 2007, I graduated from college. And now, I have just one question:

Now what?

In high school, our teachers tried to tell us they were preparing us for college, but we all know that's wrong. Of course no one remembers stuff from chemistry, physics, calculus or other utterly useless subjects, but there were supposed to be "practical" subjects too. I don't really remember anything about "shorthand" notation, which was part of a class known as "study skills." I also don't type using the "home keys," and personally I think I type much faster MY way.

Then they say that college is supposed to prepare you for your first job, but we all know how wrong that is too. I don't really know what my first job is going to be, so how can I say I'm prepared for it?

I think college made me a better writer, and gave me a better overall understanding of the world we live in. That's pretty much it in terms of what I learned in a classroom. Outside the classroom, I learned how to think more critically and creatively, to be a better judge of character, to get the most out of myself and of other people, to "trim the fat" from every aspect of life imaginable, and only take what is absolutely needed. Sounds harsh. I know.







































Before graduation, we had a week long celebration of Senior Week, and every night was a different event. Clambake, booze cruise, senior ball, pub crawl. It was so much fun.

I will truly miss a lot of the people I have come to know and love over the last 1-2-3-and 4 years. That's not to say I won't be talking to or seeing some of them quite regularly (the internet... it's crazy huh?), I just mean that the frequency of our talks and visits will slowly decrease. Sure, we knew this going into it, and truthfully I had allocated time and emotion for dealing with it, so I think I'll be ok.

I hung out around Boston for a few days after graduation, trying to soak it all in, looking for something I hadn't yet found. I realize now that was foolish. I am a true believer that you can't possibly retain any information you don't already know by studying for a test the night before. The same goes for this.





































When I came home on Tuesday, it took me a few days to unpack my room as it stood, along with everything I brought back from school, organize, throw away, donate, redistribute, reorganize, pack away, and ultimately get my room and life back in order. For whatever lies next.

My closet took on new life as a mini storage facility for things of childhood sentiment, things I might be able to use in the future, and a few things I just don't know how to let go of.

Friday night I went into the city to see my friend's show and to go to a party. Yesterday I went to the beach with Beth, then up to Old Bridge for a little BBQ and pool action with some friends. It was such a good weekend, but a lot of the time my mind wandered.


























I came home early, for me, with the idea of curling up on the couch and catching up on the last few Sopranos episodes. I fell asleep mid-episode, and the closing credits woke me up around 3:15. I shut off all the lights and went upstairs.

When I hopped into bed, I heard a creak. Then another. Then another, louder, longer creak.

Then my entire closet, shelves and bars, broke out of its wall supports and collapsed through the sliding doors, spilling out into a giant heap on the floor of my bedroom.

And here I've been trying to keep it all together. Metaphor much?


























As I write this, thunder and lightening are starting to pick up outside. And I am trying to figure out the next step. I just assume I'm supposed to start working, but some people have been telling me to put it off, to go on an adventure, to explore, to "find myself." Trust me, I've found myself, and I'm going to be spending quite a bit of time with me in the future, so I'm kind of sick of it.

The future will be wonderful, I have no doubt of that. But what of right now? The last 4 years have each been about looking to whatever events and milestones lay ahead. Now, I kind of feel like, hurry up and wait. And that scares me.







































And what about that metaphor? I'm worried that all that occupies the right now is putting my closet back together, and having to go through it all. And I'd really like a distraction.

So if you have any ideas, keep me posted. I have some shelving to replace.

Did you guys get snacks?

They say that "you are only as old as you feel," or that "age is just a state of mind." Well, after this weekend I can assure you that while this is all true, the "state of mind" referred to in the phrase is not your own, but that of everyone around you.

As graduation approaches, I've wrestled with the questions that I think a lot of people at my age deal with: After 4 years of living in the college bubble, I am about to embark on the next stage of my life. Does that mean I'm an adult now? Is this the real world? Do I look how young-professional-adults are supposed to look? Do I have to start paying my own bills? Will I finally start to grow hair down there?

And while I am fully prepared for the next chapter, excited even, about taking on new responsibilities as an adult, the rest of the world needs to follow through on their end, and start taking me seriously.

This isn't just about still being asked if I want the kids menu, because I have to be honest with you, most of the time, I do. And I can handle that. I'm short, and skinny, and I always will be. But surely, SOMETHING about me has to say to the outside world, "I am not a kid anymore."














Friday, Joseph and I flew down to New York to meet Maura, and the 3 of us spent the weekend dining, partying, shopping, apartment hunting, being generally fantastic, and getting a nice taste of what life will be like in the near future.

On the plane, dressed in jeans, brown sandals, and 4 days scruffy in the face, I got the strange feeling from the flight crew like they thought I was Joseph's little brother. He told me to stop being so paranoid and to shut up. Then he gave me a nipple-twist and a noogie and said "no backsies."

Anyway, they began their snack and beverage service, and we enjoyed our Mint Milanos and Diet Cokes with the rest of the people on board. Then garbage collection came by, and we sat back in preparation for landing.

A few minutes later, out of nowhere, one of the flight attendants made a beeline for our row, tilted her head down to us like a grade school teacher and asked, "Did you guys get snacks?"














SNACKS? With that, I had convinced Joseph that I was not crazy, and that something was up. Why weren't people taking us seriously? How old do we have to look for people to realize we know what we're doing. The rest of the weekend, I got similar feelings. It's like sometimes when you go out to eat with a small group, and the waiter neglects your table because they think, "oh it's just kids, they don't tip well anyway." Some people.

Later that night, at a birthday reception for one of Maura's friends at A Voce on the east side, I mingled and introduced myself to a lot of the guests, most of whom worked in PR and Media.














Everyone was so nice, and it was great to talk to young people who already work in my field. Towards the end of the night, I found myself talking to a travel writer named Clint, who told me that "all the New York PR girls call me Uncle Clinty!" Think Karen's arch nemesis - Beverly Leslie - from Will & Grace:

















Needless to say, I think Uncle Clinty thought I was much younger than I actually am. Just over 18, in fact.

The next night, we had dinner with my parents for Mothers Day, and afterwards went bar hopping around Chelsea and the West Village. At a few of them, we brought the average age of patrons down to about 34 from 45. We ended the night at the Cutting Room where we got to see the Saturday Night burlesque show. Topless dancers and flaming sword jugglers. I loved it.



























Ok ok. I know that once I'm older, I will probably want people to think I'm younger. But now I'm 22, and I want people to know I'm 22. 22 says, I have just graduated college, and I am looking for excellent employment opportunities. Do you know any? Would you like to mentor me? How about leads on new apartment listings? Maybe something right off Hudson? Or Brooklyn? Or Hoboken?

Bring on the jobs, and the apartments and the bills. I assure you I'm capable of handling them all. But the snacks? I think I'm all set, thanks.