New Things

Well, firstly I am back from China. Upon hearing news that most of the flights home were full, I decided to head home on Saturday night. And, in one of the many marvels of modern life, I arrived in Chicago on Saturday night. After not making it on the flight to Dallas/Fort Worth, I spent exactly 4 hours sleeping in a hotel and spent the entire day on Sunday wandering from gate to gate, hoping to be one of the lucky standby passengers to grab one of the rare empty seats to DFW. However, even as one of the top non-rev passengers listed, I was still number 30 on the list. Most of the flights were lucky to have 2 or 3 empty seats.

I will say this: If you think air travel is a stressful, unpleasant experience, you should try flying standby. I spent 12 hours wandering from gate to gate at Chicago O'hare on Sunday, equalling about 14 moments of sheer dissapointment. Note that this is following a 14 hour flight from China, and jet lag. So, please, please do not complain that you spent 30 minutes sitting on the tarmac. However, there are upsides. Firstly, I feel as though I am a stalwart giant of air travel. Will I ever complain that it my flight is too crowded? Possibly. But more likely, I will just be glad to have a seat. Perhaps my experiences will be marketable:

Job Interviewer: This position involves a lot of travel, which can involve a lot of hassle. Are you able and willing to deal with this?

Me: I have spent the night on the institutional carpet of Seattle-Tacoma airport with a John Grisham novel for a pillow.

Also, I will note that this was rough, but I also got to travel to the other side of the world for free. And I got my character built whilst doing it. All in all, super spring break. But I am a little tired.


In other news, anxiety about the future has set in yet again. In many ways, these last years of college have been wonderful on account of the fact that I have simply been able to know that I will spend the next few years in college. For a little while, the future was certain. And now, the future approaches again, and with it the tensions that I have always felt during times of change.

The new reality of the impending future awakened me with a jolt. I was on the phone with a lady from the American Airlines credit union, who my Mom had used to refinance my student loans. I asked about the process of deferment in case I am able to spend a year teaching in China, and was told that "We don't defer loans." Firstly, who the fuck doesn't defer student loans? Thanks assholes. Because I'll probably just instantly have a job when I graduate. But also, reality gave me a big ol' slap on the face.

There are two facets two my anxiety about the future. The first one is very practical and tangible. Student loans. As a German graduate student and I were discussing at my friend's apartment party on Friday night in Shanghai, student loans are a modern form of indentured servitude. Or slavery. When I graduate from college I will have a burden of $50,000 debt on my back. I will be a slave to that $50,000. I am realistic about this. I am still glad that I went to college. I do see it as an investment. Also, even though I attend an expensive private college, I am still only paying as much as I would have if I had gone to a large, state school. I got a good deal. I am also glad to be say that for all intensive purposes, my college education is my own. Because I paid for it, it is mine, and I am free to do whatever I want with it. I will say that I prefer the tangible, numerical debt to the intangible and often murky parental expectations of my friends who were priveleged enough to have their college paid for. If I want, I can move to the woods for a year and my parents can't say a damned thing about it. This is, of course, after I pay back my student loans.

The second facet is the less tangible, age-old quarter life crisis anxiety so well documented in film classics through characters such as The Graduate's Ben Braddock, Lost in Translation's Charlotte and Chance, of Homeward Bound II: Lost in San Fransisco. As the future approaches, I find myself facing my greatest fear: I am worried that my life will simply meander its way into the banal, soulless mediocrity of American suburban consumer culture. I am scared I will become a man who, as Thoreau so eloquently and succintly put it, lives with "quiet desperation" and that I will go to the grave with my song still in me. I want to live a life that is worth living. I want to live a life of adventure, of quality experience, of real love and real relationship. I never want to quit being a student. I never want to quit being challenged, to grow complacent, to quit changing. I do not want to work so much that I am not living, and (again) I want to live a life that is worth living.

I will not forget the way the wind felt across my face as I cycled my way through the Beijing neighborhood. I am a lucky man, to be able to have that experience. I realize that. Andfor now I pray that my life will be one of adventure, and that my efforts will be put into making such a life possible. And that one day, when I do settle down, I can rest easy knowing that I lived my youth without regrets, and as fully and as freely as possible.

Here's a haiku I found, which I wrote about two years ago about riding a pirate bike down the hill by the golf course and thinking about life. Strangely applicable...


wind is on my face.
i am free and wondering,
the spokes are squealing.