Post-Graduation
I have graduated from Smith College. School of Gloria Steinem, Julia Child and Sylvia Plath. Tammy Baldwin, (the first openly gay member of Congress), Tori McClure (first women to row across the Atlantic), and that lady who broke every fundraiser record in history during her time working at the Obama campaign and is now serving in the current White House. The first college to create a women's engineering program, one of the birthplaces of American feminism, with the largest minority and international constituency of any women's college in the country. I came home from my graduation, to my graduation party, where I wore my pretty white dress and greeted and entertained everyone while holding my armful of yellow roses and was congratulated and praised. I was told by friends and family and teachers that this is the beginning, and everyone from the college president on down told me now was the time to go out and make a name for myself. And from waking up Monday morning to today, one feeling has grown progressively stronger as I settle back into life at home.
Oh shit, I am sooooo fucked.
I don't have a job! I have a very small idea of what the hell I want to do with my life, which has only been arrived at by assessing the things I /don't/ want to do. I only have a very vague plan for the immediate future, which involves moving to the other side of the country with little money and no job and moving in with a friend to a tiny apartment. This plan may or may not fall through.
I have been coddled and privileged my entire life, and have recently come to realize that I am a rather spoiled and selfish person. I have little to no social skills, practical skills, or really, any skills whatsoever, except a modest familiarity with the Japanese language which at this point has nearly vanished due to the fact I haven't spoken Japanese in months, love of dissecting Shakespeare, and rather extensive knowledge of Roman gladitorial combat and Chinese history. There should be a mandatory senior seminar, something along the lines of HOW TO FIGUE OUT WHAT YOU WANT AND HOW TO GET IT 101, or something.
And the one thing I pride myself on, my writing skill, longer seems so special. After all, there are millions of people out there who can write well, and most of them better than me! And anyway (she shrieks with rising hysteria) who counts on ability anymore? Look at Stephenie Meyer, she can't write for shit, and she's richer than the Queen!
I came through my college career alive (barely) but I'll be damned if I know what the fuck to do now.
Oh shit, I am sooooo fucked.
I don't have a job! I have a very small idea of what the hell I want to do with my life, which has only been arrived at by assessing the things I /don't/ want to do. I only have a very vague plan for the immediate future, which involves moving to the other side of the country with little money and no job and moving in with a friend to a tiny apartment. This plan may or may not fall through.
I have been coddled and privileged my entire life, and have recently come to realize that I am a rather spoiled and selfish person. I have little to no social skills, practical skills, or really, any skills whatsoever, except a modest familiarity with the Japanese language which at this point has nearly vanished due to the fact I haven't spoken Japanese in months, love of dissecting Shakespeare, and rather extensive knowledge of Roman gladitorial combat and Chinese history. There should be a mandatory senior seminar, something along the lines of HOW TO FIGUE OUT WHAT YOU WANT AND HOW TO GET IT 101, or something.
And the one thing I pride myself on, my writing skill, longer seems so special. After all, there are millions of people out there who can write well, and most of them better than me! And anyway (she shrieks with rising hysteria) who counts on ability anymore? Look at Stephenie Meyer, she can't write for shit, and she's richer than the Queen!
I came through my college career alive (barely) but I'll be damned if I know what the fuck to do now.