Whenever I tell someone I’m graduating in December, usually the question of “So what will you do then?” arises almost immediately thereafter. In fact, it feels almost awkward if that question isn’t presented, as if by not asking it, that person is missing some sort of social norm (I mean, don’t you want to know what grandiose plans I have for myself as a naïve and incredibly poor post-college young adult?!).
Admittedly, I enjoy asking this question of others, because I too am curious to know my peers’ life plans. And yeah, I like talking about my life plans, too.
But I also struggle to find a sufficient answer to the question. Truth is, I don’t know what I’ll do after graduation. Yet “I don’t know” is deemed an unsatisfactory answer, as if not being able to foresee the future is somehow a flaw only you harbor.
And I get it. We all want to be able to say we have SOME sort of life direction. We all need goals and aspirations; these are necessary components to a fulfilling life. However, since when did truthfully admitting that you don’t know something become a frowned upon answer? As if at age 22 you’re supposed to know exactly what you’re going to do for the next 60 years of your life? As if at ANY point in your life you can assuredly paint a clear picture of what the next years – or even months! – of your life will be consist of.
If, in high school, you’d have told me I’d be going to school in Nashville and on my way to a career in music, I would’ve lol’d all over you and your ridiculous predictions. Yeah, I loved music, but up until around junior year of high school, I was absolutely convinced I was going to USC and pursuing a career in the film industry. And HAHALULZ at my past self and plans, considering I now go to the actual cinema to see a movie maybe twice a year (but Christopher Nolan is still my boo thang when it comes to favorite directors; P.S. HE’S RELEASING A NEW MOVIE THIS YEAR AND HANS ZIMMER COMPOSED THE SCORE).
Point is: back then, I thought I knew exactly what I’d be doing with my life.
Yet even when I think I know, I don’t.
I had no idea I’d be in music. I had no idea I would have interned at the Ryman or a country music label or any other internships I’ve had. I had no idea I’d be interviewing the drummers of Switchfoot or Fitz and the Tantrums for feature stories. I had no idea that I would’ve been able to spend the best semester of my life adventuring abroad in London and Europe.
I had no idea.
So I don’t know what I’m going to do after graduation. And you don’t have to know either.
Don’t get me wrong, I have post-grad plans. Three or four potential life blueprints, in fact. But whether any, all, or none of these come to fruition is something that I cannot confirm right now.
I just don’t know.
Even when we think we know, we don’t. And that’s okay.
“I Wanna Get Better” // Bleachers
I’ve been seeing buzz about FUN. guitarist Jack Antonoff’s solo project, Bleachers, for a while now, but didn’t get around to listening to the new album, Strange Desire, until last week. And HOLY WHOA is this a catchy album. ‘Tis certainly reminiscent of the 80s and oh so wonderful.
I made the financially irresponsible decision to purchase a record player a couple of weeks ago (I regret nothing!), and now all I want is to own this album on vinyl.
Bleachers will be playing in Nashville at Cannery Ballroom on October 29, and Wild Cub will be opening. In other words, IT’S GONNA BE A KRAZY GEWD SHOW.