Display by Label: College

I've never been the type of person who joins things. I went to a college where about 80% of the student population was Greek and I still never felt the need to Rush. Of course, that may have had less to do with my reluctance to join things and more to do with a general distaste for Frat culture and a resistance to the idea that I needed to find all my friends within the first month of school.

The thing is, I have this sort of romantic notion that groups should just develop organically, at their own pace. Not through a process which starts by doing a two-week Rush through twenty different houses to prove yourself to people you don't know. Then you put in "bids" to the houses you like and you wait to see if you're accepted by one of them. And then you are, and in what is perhaps your proudest moment on this earth, you become a Sigma Chi, or a Tappa Keg, or whatever and so obviously this means you must subject yourself to some strange homo-erotic initiation ritual where your pledge brother comes in your hair while another dude sticks his dirty underwear in your mouth—oh, I'm sorry, have we been introduced yet?—and then you get drunk and head out into a field to get branded on your ass with a—holy shit, that's a real fucking branding iron isn't it guys? okay, okay. wait a minute fellas, I think there's been some misunderstanding, I mean this can't be safe ... oh, shiiiit!!!!

I don't know. I guess it's just not my cup of tea, is all I'm saying. But some people like that sort of thing. And hey, you've got to give them credit for knowing what they like.

When I was younger, I always thought my propensity not to join things meant I was kind of "anti-social." And the whole not joining a Frat thing served to reinforce that perception about myself. But as I got older I realized this wasn't the case at all. That I was, by nature, a pretty social person. If I had been at a more liberal school, I probably would have joined several groups because I would have probably felt more of a sense that I was already accepted. And maybe in this sense it was sort of good I was at W&L because, at that age, I really needed something to rebel against. And by rebelling against the social scene there, it actually helped me academically, because I spent a lot more time studying. If I had been at a school like Brown or Vassar, I probably would have been just another Birkenstock-and-flannel-wearing neo-hippie waiting around for the next promising three-way. And studying? Who cares about studying?

I guess what I'm saying is if I do join a group—and here's the tricky part—I want to actually feel like I'm part of the group before joining it. I want acceptance into the group to be a pre-condition of ... gracing it with my presence. Dig? That way I'm just loved. Automatically. Without doing anything but showing up. Is that so much to ask, people? I mean, really!

But last week, I stepped out of my comfort zone a bit and joined Thirty-Something Bloggers. See: here's my profile. Given my phobia of groups, this is not something I normally would have done, but having just moved from DC, where there had been a great "community" of bloggers (thanks in large part to dcblogs.com), I wanted to try to find something similar to that. It's nice to have that sense of community when you blog. For one thing, it provides a way for other people to find your blog. But more than that, it helps give you a sense of context and "place" where otherwise you're just this single voice shouting into the ether. What I like so much about DCblogs (who kindly still keeps me in their "blogroll" by the way) is that it really allows you to work into it naturally and with no strings attached. You live in DC? You blog? Fine! You're a DC blogger. It's really that simple. There's no test involved and you don't have to say anything about yourself. You're not obligated to meet anybody or say hello. You just send a link to your blog. Period. Nobody initiates you. At the end of the day, you still might wind up with somebody's underwear in your mouth. But if you do, it's because you totally wanted it to happen.

The Thirty-Something Bloggers group felt a little more risky to me. You have to set up a profile, which, of course, makes you sort of "define" yourself in a very superficial way. And then there is this whole business of having "friends" in the group, which of course is one of those MySpace-like concepts that doesn't really mean anything because it becomes a kind of numbers game. But the bloggers who were in the group did seem like people I related to. And the quality of the blogs on the site was good. And there was actually a DC blogger I recognized who had already joined. So that helped lend some credibility to it. But I was still sort of skeptical, because a group based on age seemed flawed somehow. I mean, being a "Thirty-Something Blogger" is, by necessity, a temporary condition. In the end, one of three things is bound to happen to all of us: 1) We will stop blogging. 2) We will continue blogging, but will eventually turn forty. 3) We will continue to blog and never turn forty. And while that last scenario may seem like a good one, it's actually the least-desirable outcome of the three.

But I decided not to over-think it. Or rather, I did over-think it (as you can see), and then I took a few steps back and joined the group anyway. Because why the hell not? It's all about making connections with people, after all. Isn't it? That, and trying not to take yourself too seriously.

So how do I feel now that I'm a Thirty-Something Blogger? What does it mean? Well, I'm not exactly sure. I haven't figured it out yet. Right now I'm just sort of existing there. My profile pic just floats around on the page and shit, looking dorky and weird. Pretty soon, maybe I'll throw myself into a discussion or two. Or maybe I'll just sort of fade away into the background and never say or do much of anything. I have yet to make friends with too many people. Actually, I've made precisely two, and one is the group creator, and so she has to be my friend ... by law, I think. My other friend—who I've already had a fight with over—of all things—grits, goes by the provocative name of Horny Housewife. And doesn't it seem like I should get extra "friend points" for that or something? I may get my Vassar moment, yet.

link to this | comments (8) | File:  Thirty_Something_Bloggers  Friends  College  Chewing  Blog 

What's wonderful about these people is they're still here. And you love them for that. They're proof that the memories you have of college aren't some strange dream that you just woke up from. You actually were that post-modern, angst-ridden, Cobain-listening, kid with directionless enthusiasm. Who had a flannel shirt for every occasion. Who composed strange lines to friends via the campus PINE system and buzzed off all his hair freshman year to what? Impress? Alienate? Who obsessed over every academic paper he ever wrote and tried to impress his professors with his penchant for irony. Whose favorite thing was to go to campus on Saturday afternoons — when it was empty — and read. Who tried to quit smoking one day by switching to dip and had to lie prone on the colonnade for nearly an hour, sweating and fighting waves of nausea from the resulting nicotine high. Who thought love was something you could script and who almost tossed everything — friendships, grades, self-respect — for someone who had her own desperate affair with self-destruction.

These are people who sat up late with you, sharing their own hopes and dreams and fears and desires. These are people who had your back, whether you knew it or not. In fact, these are people who quite literally took care of you when your back went completely out.

And what's magical about these people is that they're here today — in your current life — but they also remember someone else — a prior you. And it's someone that in the loud roar of the here and now, you yourself have sort of forgotten. And somehow being with them is like being with that earlier self. The first self you had that wasn't defined by family. A self you've forgotten not because you wanted to, but because that's what you do. You forget.

One way to measure a lifetime is by how much forgetting you do, and how well you do it. Your life can be measured — and defined — by the doors you let close, by the keys you lose. But your long-time friends, they're the link. They always have a spare. And they let you back in from time to time. Like this weekend. And once in a while that's really nice.

link to this | comments (4) | File:  College  Friends 

Last weekend we went down to Lexington, Virginia for my 10-year college reunion. Here are some pics from the trip. It was a great time, primarily because we got to spend so much of it with our friends, Sarah, Randy, Julie, Jesse, but also because I got to catch up with several classmates and professors I hadn't seen in a while. While I had a lot of fun hanging out with them and seeing the campus, there was also an odd mix of feelings accompanying me on the trip, some good, some not.

It's strange that I only spent four years at W&L. I guess college is such a pivotal time filled with so many new ideas, sensations, and emotions, that it plants itself more firmly in your memory. It makes the four years seem like twenty. But the alarming reality is that I've been away from Lexington two-and-a-half times as long as I was there. I've had two different 'careers,' first as a bartender, then as a 'web guy.' It's strange that those lives know nothing of each other and the person I am now bares only a slight resemblance to the person I was then.

For me, it's the smells more than anything that bring the memories back. The trees outside the freshmen dorms, the musty smell of the old buildings on campus, the library stairwells - as soon as they hit me, I'm taken back 14 years to my first year there. I feel again a sense of excitement and independence, a strange mix of contentedness, opportunity, and fear. And eventually, it's all supplanted by a lingering sense of sadness. Because it's over. The dreams I had then have either happened or they haven't, and either way, it's not quite what I thought. And I'm suddenly that guy who I used to see ten years ago, snapping photos, talking about how things have changed, reflecting on the past. And I used to think, no way that would ever be me.

link to this | comments (0) | File:  College 

Last night I went to a W&L alumni happy hour. I thought it might be a good warm-up for me, as my 10-year college reunion is coming up in May. It turns out that I was the oldest alumni at the happy hour. When confronted with that sort of reality, there's nothing more soothing than downing a pint of Big Hunt brew, which I did . . . twice . . . in rapid succession.

I don't often go to these alumni get-togethers. While I'm proud of my alma mater, there's only so much of it I can take. This is because I quickly become unsettled by how different I am from most people who went to my college and it leads to a sort of mini identity crisis. If you know me and you click on the link to the school above, you'll see what I mean. Catherine can't get over the fact that I went to school here. I'll just say in my defense that, despite the southern conservative backdrop, the professors at this school were actually quite liberal, which made it an overall great experience. But I can't say it wasn't difficult at times to be an unabashedly liberal, grunge-styled Gen X'r at a school whose student body was mostly conservative and nearly 90% greek (and for those of you who don't understand this term, I'm referring to the fact that sororities and fraternities dominated the social scene, not to nationality). This was something that led to a vast amount of angst and cigarette smoking in college among me and my small circle of friends. But now that I am older it just seems humorous. The majority of people who went to my college seem to be at home sporting suits and ties, or dresses that make them look twenty years older than they actually are. Their backgrounds tend to involve things like cotillions, country clubs, and private high-schools. But despite having very different backgrounds and tastes from my own, I have come to realize that most people I meet from my college are generally nice and open to conversation, even if it involves lively debate. And that's a good thing.

Anyway, I digress. Here's what I wanted to talk about: one thing I found myself paying attention to last night was the different way people introduced themselves. In general, most people I meet introduce themselves by their first name only. In fact, of all the people I met recently at SXSWi, this was the standard. But last night, I met a few people who used both their first and last names when introducing themselves. It occurred to me that this sort of introduction left an impression on me that was quite different than if they had only used their first names. Using both names seemed a little more assertive, somehow. Maybe even a little self-aggrandizing. I don't mean to paint this either positively or negatively, because I think the specific effect probably is different depending on the person giving and/or receiving the introduction. But whatever the effect, it definitely seems to call attention to itself. Has anybody else ever noticed this, or is it just me? Thoughts?

Going beyond introductions, it's interesting to note the effect of using a full name when referring to or addressing other people. When parents use first and last names to address a child, it usually means anger. It's meant to instill a certain degree of fear in the child and let them know they've done something stupid, wrong, or both. However, if one of your close friends does it, as in calling you on your cell and saying 'Hey Brad Smith. Where you at?' it would probably just be weird. There was a guy I knew in high school who used a person's first and last name whenever he addressed them in casual conversation. But he did it in such a way that it always seemed funny. It was his brand of humor, I guess. I've tried addressing people this way, but it doesn't really work for me. I prefer using nicknames.

Anyway, at my 10 year reunion, I'll know most of the people I'm likely to hang out with, so there won't be a need for much in the way of introductions. I'll mostly be 'catching up.' But when I do meet people, I'm going to try the first name, last name method on a few people and see how it fits.

link to this | comments (6) | File:  Language  College  Chewing