Accomplishments in the Last Year.

I was born in 1986 and I meet a lot of people who say that I'm pretty young.  Yes, I tell them, that's called getting older, you'll experience it more and more for between 10 and 70 years.  Fewer people say it to me every year, though, so I'm not worried.  It was no surprise that when I was born, 24 years later I was awarded a Master's degree, because of all the things that happened in between.  I'm not easily surprised.  It's easy really, to not be surprised.  I could have broken this up into chapters, so you might not be so surprised, with titles and hints like, "the one where sadness," or "look out a baseball will break your nose."

August is a time of year that happens most years.  It was also a year and a time last one when I lost my home and gained a place.  There is a tendency it seems in young people to praise the nomads among us, and to emulate them.  To buy a truck or a stupid horse, or a feet walking and just go.  To just go.  And then probably to have kids at like 32 and be fine with that it was just a phase, I know who I am now, they probably say.  Oh, I was so lost.

God, I hate metaphors.  First of all they aren't chips or friends, or small delicate platters of cheese and pickled vegetables served next to divine cocktails with names like, "The Whispering Philanderer."  Or any of the things that really matter in life.

I left, though.  Coos Bay they say, where is that?  Oh, adjacent to Remote and Norway.  Not familiar?  It's two hours from, and then tears, welling up in my eyes, from Eugene, Oregon.  A student once asked me if I would make the same choices, would I move there, would I teach, would I go to school for.  And like that he unwound my life like a sweater that I was probably wearing.  Sure, the sweater probably had a couple of holes in it, but it was my sweater, I'm known for my sweaters, and without it, I wouldn't be wearing anything because I am literally only wearing a sweater.

That's a metaphor for how awful they are, metaphors.  And choices.  The thing about choices is, they aren't.  There is only what happens and we move on from there.

And so, leaving.  That happened.  With respect and adulation and probably resentment, and because this is the West Coast nobody said it to my face.  Nobody told me what I was doing wrong.  How to write backwards in 300 words or less.  I've always believed in the power of letters ever since I wrote a powerful letter, and then I did it again, with the letters.  Put 'em down and sign your name and if they read it, they will feel pretty bad, I'm sorry, just do it better.  Sincerely, the king of tears and loneliness and do a better job.

It's hard to be in your mid-twenties and probably every age.  I think that's one of the great lessons in life.  That it's hard.  It's not really though.  Just show up and make mistakes.  I used to run cross-country races and I almost always improved my time.  That doesn't mean I was the best or even noteworthy.  I also once adjusted the sprinklers at my grandparents house and it got my grandfather really wet.  There are a lot of ways to feel about that.  I choose accomplished.