In Medias Res

January 1, 2010

The first day of the new decade was something of a rarity for me: it was a moment that felt exactly like what it was. Often, milestones and watersheds are almost surreal in how mundane they feel (possibly because by the time we hit milestones, we're fairly tired).

But this was different. The world felt rejuvenated. Even the streets of Philadelphia seemed clean and fresh and bright—which may rile those with east coast regional biases—but there it was, and it was new. As Jon and I walked to the train station, we decided that this feeling of renewal was probably owed to the fact that a) the weather had improved considerably since last night, and b) the streets were empty since everyone was still at home hung over at 2 PM. I wished it were like that everyday.

Jon, an old friend of mine since high school, had invited me to spend New Years Eve with him at the University of Pennsylvania's School of Engineering. I said yes. It would get me out of the house and out of the state, and it was a chance to see what people who dedicate their lives to science and rationality do on New Year's Eve. Reading that back, it seems fairly clear that it could go one way or the other; it went the other. My chief memory of the night was being trapped in a second-floor apartment while a guy named Rish, who reliable sources tell me is actually really nice, violently banged on the door from the hallway. We were told not to let him in. I spent the time counting the almonds on the floor.

After darting a bit through Philadelphia in the slush and rain, which my sneakers were very ill-suited for, we ended up Jon's old apartment. It was half-empty, he was moving out. But there were still sofas, and we found some uneaten crackers. Soon everyone else left, and it was just me and Jon. We'd both just graduated as December grads. I'd left school only two weeks prior and entered the world armed with a humanities degree and an unprecedented lack of expectations. This was something new. Jon and I talked about the future and prospects. We talked about the new zeitgeist of the Obama era, solutions for the world's energy problem, and the shortcoming of the Star Wars prequels. The amount of lucidity pouring out at 4 AM seemed uncommon. It was all so simple. By the time I woke up, I'd forgotten most of it. Soon we had to go to the train.

That evening—a confused daze, loud pondering, and inappropriate footwear—is more or less emblematic of post-graduate life for me, and it reverberates back behind it and, presumably, in front of it as well.

Within a few weeks, Jon and I would both leave on a trip out to California: him to a job, and me along for the ride to see the country and maybe come up with a plan. This blog is my log of the places, people, and incidents that followed. It will be a mixture of stories, anecdotes, and thoughts that will probably come in no particular order, out of a mixture of postmodernism and laziness.

We hope you enjoy.