maybe there is life after college (it's lame)

i don't know if it was just me, but for some reason the day after college graduation i thought i might die. perhaps it had to do with the fact my body was having trouble recovering from a four-day alcohol-induced fiasco. still, i felt like i was waiting around for a bomb to go off--hands over my ears, scanning the horizons for signs of my imminent demise. but, surprisingly, nothing happened. i didn't keel over. my house didn't explode. but i still wasn't convinced, even when i walked into a real adultworld job a week later.

i expected something to change. i was wearing a suit, i had a sweet manbag, and i had a desk and all: i'm different, i'm taller, i'm grown up. heck, i got my own health insurance and business cards. wow.

but of course, the inevitable happened. people asked what grade i was in, folks on the phone told me they needed to speak to a "responsible adult." then there is the time in the elevator. i happened to think i was looking quite sharp that day, but this older lady gets in, the door closes and she looks at me funny. "so. what school do you go to?" great. again. "actually, i just graduated from carolina." "oh," she says, "well maybe you should grow some facial hair or something." then the elevator dings, we arrive at floor 3 and she gets her elderly ass out of the lift. alone in the glass elevator i stare at my reflection and realize, yeah, maybe i should grow some facial hair (if only....). maybe i'm not really an adult. maybe not much has changed; i mean i still listen to crappy emo-ish music, i still watch abc family, i still wear my hair too long, and i still don't know what the hell i am doing. and that's okay. because dammit, i'm 23 not 44.

but the point of all this is twofold: graduating college does not equal immediate death (thought it may be lurking around every corner) and you are not a real adult at this ridiculous age, at least not yet. so in a lot of ways age 23 is like age 13, where everything was awkward, new-ish, confusing ("am i still a kid?"), etc. but the good part is, i'm not breaking out in zits, my voice isn't cracking (well, most of the time), and i don't play the trumpet in the parker middle school band.

so i guess the awkward, clumsy stuff is okay 'cause it is likely (hopefully) followed by years of awesomeness. and i can live with that. as long as i don't need braces.