I was talking to my boss the other day-she was cutting out fish from bright colored paper. At my job, whenever you raise over 300 dollars in one night or get ten or more letters, you receive a fish. We talked about the transition post-diploma. And we found a commonality–we both chose to work as a canvasser during the interim. And twenty years later, Emily is cutting fish. She’s moved up-is married to the director and is responsible for the functioning of the office—but she is still here.
I’m not sure what I’m doing or where I am going. I do know where I’ve been. What I’ve done. A sense of who I am.
Right now I am on my couch in my house that I’m subletting for the summer in Ann Arbor. Four years ago when I was applying to colleges I held a grudge against this university. Although from childhood U of M had been a source of family pride-from both my parents–the intention of all my peers in high school to go to the same university tainted the entire city. I find it slightly ironic that I have graduated from Albion, small liberal arts school in the middle of a tiny low income township and several cornfields–and have moved instead to the college town that wasn’t good enough for me when I had just a high school diploma. Now with a Bachelor of Arts in International Studies with a focus on Africa and a minor in French, this college town is perfect for the summer.
But I keep waking up and questioning what next. Really, I’m scared. I’m scared of choosing what I want to do. Of what kind of person I want to become. Of what kind of man I want. Of which path to take. I’m also aware that choosing not to choose a path will not leave me where I want to be.
In twenty years I don’t want to be cutting fish.
I looked at my first blog entry. It was two years ago-the last summer I spent in Bloomfield. After sophmore year when I was so absorbed in the moment, so completely charged with momentum that I couldn’t see straight. I spent the last year finding my perspective. And right now, at this standstill, I’m looking around myself wondering where to go next.
I know I want to find direction. To pursue a career and a cause that I am passionate about. I want to travel to different parts of the world-with friends and by myself. I want to live outside of the US at some point. I want to live in a place that is warm more often than it is cold. I want to be near to my parents or my brother. I want to fall in love-more than once. I want to feel those different nuances of love that I have seen in my friends lives. I want to make bad decisions—risky ones that leave me with unforgettable lifechanging experiences. I want to find someone that is worth my time-worth toughing it out together through the good and bad. I want to have children-especially a daughter. I want to show her the world and watch to see who she becomes. I want to have my sisters in my wedding. I want to have a puppy that I come home to every night that loves me. I want to be happy.
These are things I know I want. Here’s one thing I know. We-sisters-will be lifelong friends. And I have spent some of my best and worst moments with you guys. I know you better than I know any one else–and you me. It’s where I learned to laugh so hard I can’t breathe-those moments when shared joy convulses us and the world is a better place for whatever ridiculous reason we found hilarious. And thats something that I want to define my life, no matter which path I choose. We will be together, and we’ll be laughing so hard we can’t breathe. Finding those moments of joy and sharing them-thats what I choose. Just gotta take some time to figure out which path I want.
~on est ensemble
Alexandra Marie
