Hope or Ennui?

I know, I know. I've been gone for a few days. This is partly because of working the overnight shift at Macy's, partly due to our internet going out, and partly an "I don't give a fuck" attitude. So sorry, y'all. I'm having some sort of crisis.


I need to get my life on track. I've decided to start applying to grad school ASAP, and I'm especially interested in going to Sciences-Po (Yes, THE Sciences-Po) in Paris to get my Masters in European Affairs (English Track). But until then, I need to look like I'm doing something somehow pertinent to France, government, etc.

I found out that there's an organization in Seattle called "Alliance Francaise", which basically has French classes and French events in the area. I figure I'll volunteer there, in their "mediatheque" (read: library) and maybe help with some events. Maybe by the Spring term, I'll be able to afford to take a French class or two.

So I got the so-desired call from Macy's, the one asking me about staying on as a regular. Of course, we've been playing phone tag now twice, so hopefully we get in touch eventually. It's nice to have a source of income, and it's such a pain to have to look for work, but if I'm going to improve in life, I suppose it must be done.


I was musing the other day about the system, how if you're under 25 years old, you are basically useless. Yes, you have a college degree, but do you have 3 years of experience? No? Then you must work for free, or work at McDonalds. Unless your parents will pay for you through the bulk of your twenties, you cannot achieve much career-wise. Which just completely refutes the idea that we live in some sort of meritocracy, which has always been fallacious, but which no one will acknowledge.


I've been reading some Henry Miller, and my book "Women of the Left Bank" in the last few days, and it's made me nostalgic for Paris. I need Paris, or what it represents for me. I'm not sure where the French infatuation came from, but it has followed me everywhere, and Paris is the only place I'll feel like I've achieved my dream in life. If I were to live in Paris, then what else would matter? Perhaps I'm foisting my insecurities in life on a fantasy city that no longer exists, but it suffices for now.

I'm also going to work on developing my writing, maybe write some short stories or even a novel. I have little practice in fiction, but I suppose the most important thing is to write, and worry about its quality later.


Things are looking up, but it's a long road ahead of me.