Notes on Essay 1

Point: I love adventure. I didn’t always. I used to be totally scared. Something changed (?). Home was too small/needed to leave. College was great first escape. Changed my perception of home. Now home is a safe place again, but not a place to stop. It’s a between places recharging place/re-grounding.

The point is that there is no final destination in sight for now. I’m restless and hopeful and hopeless all at once. And scared, but of missing out on things instead of trying new things. That fear of trying new things is there still but overridden by the self loathing I feel when I miss out on something.

My list of dreams include glass blowing, marine biology, oceanographer, photographer, writer, magazine photojournalist, hiking the AT, living in another country that different from my own, learning about people, conquering my awkwardness in conversations and find a way to really enjoy meeting new people, explore a castle in Europe without tourists or barriers, scuba dive, live in Hawaii, California, and Colorado, raft guide, be a great kayaker, be a good skier, teach, go back to Haiti, take a cross country road trip to get to know my own country.

You start off talking about your boring normal life. You have to see the world! Now Queens is just another pit stop, where I feel comfortable, less innocent, but still bored.

Generation Apathetic

I missed my decade. The 1960s were tough years for the country and there was a lot going on. But the difference was that people cared! We’re going to be the generation who saw huge things happening and our only response has been a continual mocker of the government from SNL and of “bushisms,” and a sea of bumper stickers with the oh so clever captions of “Buck Fush,” and “Can’t wait till ’08.” I have some faith restored through the election of Obama (the love of my life), but still. Come on, people. We haven’t been happy with the way things are going for a while. I know that I have not personally organized any great rallies, but I promise, I’ve tried to change things in smaller ways. I’m not just talking about politics, though. Queens, incidentally, houses the largest percentage of apathy maybe ever. (This is not a scientifically accurate statement, nor is it probably a fair one, but I stand by it). I include myself in this apathetic nonsense as well on occasion, for which I am not fond of myself. Now, I love the people here dearly, but people just want you to do everything for them. I’ve tried starting this Outdoor Club on campus. I got all excited and overzealous perhaps to begin with, and due partly, if not mostly, to my poor planning abilities the club has not become what I had hoped. The thing is, though, that despite the enormous number of people signed up for said club, not a single person, aside from close friends have volunteered with any earnest intention of doing anything. I can understand why. It hasn’t been a simple job. It’s required much of my two arch nemeses, Paperwork and Budgeting. Without an army to combat them, I am sadly losing hope. I’ll go camping with alcohol and friends instead of with advisors and school policies, damn it! I don’t like to fail, but am certainly no stranger to it, so I am going to see what the rest of the year holds by way of my shriveling confidence in my once hopeful project, but it is not the end yet!

So, Generation Apathy, do your worst. Nothing. In the mean time, I will be slowly pulling myself out. I catch myself being apathetic with blogging and art projects. I love writing and art! So what’s the problem? I, being plagued with the afore mentioned illness, would instead sit and stare at a wall, or examine my hangnail-y fingers than produce a world changing masterpiece. So, again I say to you, you sneaky monster. You have not won yet! I have identified you and will put up with you no longer!

Chuck Klosterman

Chuck Klosterman. My first impression: Oh. My. God. I am in way over my head. I have, on a good day, only a mediocre library of pop culture knowledge in my head. I am intrigued, but not as well informed as I wish to be. But, like listening to Dr. Kobre talk, I am thoroughly impressed by his infinite knowledge of all things, both important and trivial.
My next thought: Wow, he likes to hear himself talk way too much. Perhaps this is because it Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs is a collection of essays, and I would do better to read them in smaller doses, but I felt like this man loved his own opinions. Okay, I know, as a writer, we all like our own opinions; otherwise we wouldn’t want to share them so fervently. But I feel as if his peacock display of his knowledge is just tiring after a while.
My final major thought: He does a fantastic job of taking the most mundane thing and using it to create a much bigger point. And he does it in a very amusing way. I had to laugh.
So, overall, Chuck Klosterman has my respect as pop culture guru and go-to man on the art of talking a lot of nothing-ness into something-much-bigger-ness.