Fever Rising

My best friend from highschool is getting married. 10 days after my 22nd birthday, she's getting married to the guy she's been with for the past 8 years. They must be in love. 8 years of living together, of traveling around the world together. 8 years of compromise, of saying "yeah I got a full scholarships to the best schools in the country, but i'll go wherever you go". Making it work. I wonder if I'll ever find someone I'd give up my life for like that.

I turned in my budget report yesterday by the skin of my teeth. What a funny phrase. But that's just it, by the skin of my teeth. Barely even made it. Hit send at 4:59. There it was, that's all I could do. It's gotten to that point now that people are starting to look at me funny when I shrug in response to "What are you going to do next year?" You mean- you don't know?! You mean- you have no idea where you'll be living or where you'll work or what kind of job you'll have? You don't have a clue about what country you'll be in? You want to leave the states? (you call it the states?)

I have no clue. I still have no clue. I'm still waiting for that brilliant moment when the skies part and I'm given a sign. I'm not going to get married just yet. I'm not going to become a financial analyst and work on wall street just like all the other creative writing majors "just until i make enough money so I can write for a while". I'm not joining the peace corps or teach for america. I don't know what I"m doing with myself. It's like I'm waiting for that perfect ride to come along and pick me up, but for now, i'm the only sucker still walking on the side of the road with her thumb out. Scratch that. I don't even want a perfect ride. I just want a decent one, one that will take me far enough so I can have an adventure.

I think I need to get out of the northeast.

I was walking around campus today, and all of the sudden, I felt really old. I saw myself the way I saw the seniors when I was a freshman in college: adultlike, with their shit all together, with direction, demanding respect. Half the time I don't even know what I"m doing. And I wonder if that's what life really is: maybe we never really know what we're doing, and we're just sitting around waiting for someone else to discover that we're complete frauds, that we're just making it up as we go along. Reminds me of a conversation I had with a man on a train. At 22 he was a financial analyst. He went to harvard, majored in history and economics and now worked in connecticut, lived in a house with other financial analysts. His whole life was there, right in front of him. And he didn't want it at all. he looked at me and said "it's only a matter of time before they discover that I'm just faking it". Is that what this world is? Just ruled by chance, uncertainty and fakers? I talked to a freshman about how I wanted to transfer when I was her year. I told her I had expected college to be so much different, I expected to finally find "my people". I've realized now, however, that "my people" aren't who I expected them to be. We don't all agree, in fact, we disagree more. But thats what makes us interesting. We're all just making it up as we go along. We're all constantly scraping one idea and creating another of ourselves, a constant self-portrait in action. Constantly changing and learning and growing and editing, erasing and creating over and over again.

I feel like I have blinders on.

I start running subjects this week for my senior project. A senior project is supposed to be the culmination of our academic careers. It's fitting, then, that I have no idea what I am doing. Cross my fingers and dive right in.