Saturday, January 7

This post brought to you by boredom*

Everyone's shuffling around this month. Kristin's settling into her new apartment in Nashville. Ditto for Jason and his triumphant return to the 'boro. Brandon is now here in Memphis. J.R. will be stateside shortly (does this mean yet another change to the blog title? "Tales from Stateside?"). I think Patrick moved into a new place, too, maybe in late December. And Phil and I are slowly crouching and getting ready to pounce once moving day rolls around.

Januaries have traditionally signified stasis and boredom in my life. The start of the new year is virtually meaningless to me, especially since I still think of the start of the school year (August) as the start of the year year. Throughout my life, January hasn't brought much change; it's just been a continuation of whatever I had been doing for the past several months. Now I sort of feel like I'm in limbo, not tied to the school calendar, and completely irreverent when it comes to the Gregorian calendar. It's sort of like how days of the week lost all meaning once I stopped going to church, and even moreso once I got out of school and got a non-Monday-thru-Friday job. Sundays are Tuesdays are Fridays. And January is April is August is November.

For me, at least, this is part of why the passage of time seems to be accelerating as I age. What an inescapable cliche. I just float from one day to the next, with no real sense of meaning or goals to guide me. The result is a mish-mash of meaningless days that leave me at the end of a month thinking, Holy hell, where did all the time go? Don't get me wrong; it's not a bad existence at all. It's much less stressful than the life of a broke student with three jobs. There are certainly much worse ways of living. But it feels peculiar to me; I have always fed off of the constant drumbeat of ambition.

Last year, January brought enormous change. And I'd be lying if I tried to play it off as an entirely welcome change. It's been a year of struggle and self-doubt, and a year where I had to face the fact that I am fully in charge of my happiness, and that I can't rely on anyone else to give my life meaning. But it was also a year of independence and self-reliance and self-actualization. I'm trying to figure out what that means, exactly, and how I can handle all that stuff better than I have before. But I guess the important thing is that at least it's all on the radar and that I feel like I'm growing.

So there's really no telling what this year will bring. I'm not going to look at it as a fresh start or any of that. That's too much pressure to be shouldered by one measly little year. At the end of 2006, I will be 25 years old. Who will I be in a year? What will I find meaning in? What will I know then that I don't know now? What sorts of annoying rhetorical questions will I ask on the blog (if it survives)?

It's interesting to think about the future, but I'm sure it will be more boring than I'd like to imagine (I'm more boring than I'd like to imagine). I suspect the mid-20s lull will persist until I decide to have kids (read: get knocked up) or win the lottery (which I never play) and jet set around the world. I might throw a wrench in the gears and go back to school and get out of the news business. You never know. You just never know.

*The official sponsor of Saturday night.


Blogger phallicpen said...

I'm so excited for you. I know you might feel a little dread or maybe some fear, but stick those things in an open mental wastebasket (open because there's nothing wrong with digging through the garbage now and again). This is the part when things are tough. Later will be the part when you'll think, Holy shit, I've somehow morphed into an even superer Lindsey.

A BAMF, if you will.

Sun Jan 08, 11:01:00 AM  
Blogger oskiesmom said...

I don't think you realize what a different world it could be for you in Midtown. My first assumption was you hated it out here because it's too Republican. Midtown is a world more to your taste, politically, culturally, musically, all-ically. I've felt like you've been living in exile, driving to work on that evil freeway. There's no telling the people you will bump into who have common themes running in their lives. As for what you'll find that has meaning, Midtown is packed with those kinds of people. Poets, activists, yes a fair number of burnouts and drunks, artists, artists and more artists per square inch. I envy Midtown cuz it's getting you. But I still wouldn't want to live there cuz I'm a greasy grubby property owner who likes to have Target and a choice of grocery stores nearby.

Mon Jan 09, 01:05:00 AM  
Blogger theogeo said...

Amber, I'm excited, too. Despite my efforts to not be. And, oh, how I want to be a BAMF!

Say-ruh, I'm really banking on the assumption that Midtown is more me than where I am now. I very much want to wallow in a bed of poets and artists and socialists and dirty hippies, if for nothing else than to get that existence out of my system. :) However, I am bracing for the inevitable day that I have to go shopping; I've heard the terrifying tales of venturing outside the parkways to get groceries. But I'm ready for the challenge.

Mon Jan 09, 03:13:00 PM  

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