Do you ever have no idea what to write but you really need to express
yourself? I went to a party tonight and ended up talking to a number of people who really made me think about things. Honestly, I think it's only because I'm in a position to always
be thinking about things, out of school and perpetutally jobless. It's really interesting being around other people in their twenties. Some of them have started their own businesses. Some have had babies. Some are writing their thesis. Some are working for a company you've always wanted to work for. Some followed their dream in a way you never thought you had the guts to. Some have terrible dreary jobs you can't imagine lasting a day at. Some don't end sentences with sentences with prepositions. I think, unlike a few years ago, I really enjoy talking to new people and finding out what they're doing with their lives, because it's always
fascinating, even when it's terrible.
We drove out to BFE Rockville tonight to a friends party, who lives in a full-on suburbia 3 bed 2 bath house that made me nearly cry with it's fruit laden wallpaper and cat portraits. As I was eating my seven-layer dip and 24-hour simmered beef I told my roommate this party was very, ahem, "adult," to which he responded, "You mean boring?" "Um...yes." My roommate and I are very corner creatures until we drink a little, and then he's still a recluse, but I suddenly don't mind meeting strangers. So after a few beers his boyfriend dragged him off and I ended up meeting a guy from an awesome organization that I'd love to work for, if non-profit's actually paid enough to hire someone as in debt as me. Actually, I talked to him for quite awhile before we introduced ourselves, then he gave me this name that I recognized as semi-famous on the progressive blogs I read and I realized, once again, that I live in the Capital, and should expect that I could unknowingly be talking to such a person. I got his card and will be speaking with him later about opportunities, but it was enthralling and also...a body-blow to be talking to such a person. Why? Because I sparred as an equal on all of our debates. (Also...I'm much taller.) This was one of a number of conversations I had this evening where I really enjoyed myself, but while I was intellectually body-slamming someone I realized, why the fuck aren't I semi-famous
like this guy? Why aren't a freelance photographer like that guy? Why aren't I a production assistant and moving out west like this guy? (Sorry, it was a gay party, they were all guys.)
Seriously, I had conversations with all of these people, and it really amazes me how much people my age have accomplished while I've been writing meaningless legal briefs for some crap law professor who deigned to give me a B+ because I fell into the bosom of the curve.
The guy who picked us up today, who happens to be a freelance photographer I've gotten to know pretty well, stood in our living room as we were getting ready and said, "You know, I've been thinking about these photos you have, and I just love them. Seriously, they're just...I don't know, I really think you could do something with them." He was talking about a couple of my Chile photos we framed because they brought some color to our pale living room, and I'll be honest, I don't know how to take compliments well, especially when it comes to my photography, but I was flattered. He really seemed like he'd been thinking about them for awhile, and mentioned to me a few times later that evening, asking what I'd been doing for the "next step" in my photography. (Those prints are actually how we met, by the by, he came to my party in October, mentioned to someone that he like our art, and they pointed them to me.) Anyway, the point is, why aren't I doing more? Why aren't I semi-famous? I'm not trying to be a big artist, or famous, or rich, I just want to do what I love, and everyone else on gods-green earth is going gung-ho, full-throttle forward.
Why aren't I?