Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, I am free at last!
{excuse me for equating my free rein from F.I.D.M to the defining moment of the Civil Rights Movement}. But yes, my graduate education from fashion school has come to a haul, and I'm forever unfettered from creating 'according-to-specifications-notch-collars' and subjection to 'shallow-freshly-out-of-the-closet-gay-boy-from-Modesto' conversation.
What have I done since my final hurrah last week?
Besides the obvious (binge drink, sleep and indulge in 2 season's of Battlestar Galactica), I've caught up via phone and email with close friends/family, made visits to acquaintances in the city, and taken time
to talk to strangers with cute dogs in the park. But no encounter occurs without the deliverance of the following inevitable question...
What the fuck are you going to do now? (*fuck omitted on occasion*)
My memorized 2-liner is delivered quickly and without hesitation
(or unfortunately any authenticity).
So...friends, family, strangers in the park; you ask the question again...
'What the fuck are you going to do now?'
Lelaina Pierce couldn't articulate my ambivalence better in her famous graduation speech from Houston State:
And they wonder why those of us in our twenties...refuse to work an 80-hour week... just so we can afford to buy their BMWs...why we aren't interested... in the counterculture that they invented...as if we did not see them disembowel their revolution...for a pair of running shoes.
But the question remains...
what are we going to do now?
How can we repair all the damage we inherited? Fellow graduates, the answer is simple. The answer is...The answer is...
I don't know.
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