The Collegiate

There was a time when looking like a college kid was the most admirable thing in the world. I think it was around 10th grade. I'm finally realizing that such a time has passed for me. As my friend JaySun recently pointed out on his blog, we hung out a week or so ago and had a discussion on the pressures to "dress your age" and to "look your age" in general. It wasn't until this year that I finally felt the adult world begin to scratch its nasty claws against my skin in a beckoning motion.
"Come on Nathan," it says with raspy voice, "It's time to grow up - you know all the cool kid...err...adults are doing it!"
I am succumbing, mentally, to the need for an updated wardrobe and a more authentic, clean-cut look. Soon it will be time to say goodbye to my beloved band t-shirts. The graphic T's that I proudly purchased as a college sophomore no longer have a place upon my marginally harrier chest. Wearing trendy Converses and jeans with ragged cuffs is endearing to 17 year-olds, but there is a better way to go now.

The problem is that I can't afford that way yet. I want a new suit - that's WAY out of my price range. When I walk into stores like Banana Republic my head nearly explodes - but alas, the sale items are never in my size. To be able to flip the pages of J. Crew and deck myself out in 3 or 4 new outfits that say, "Hey, I'm a 20-something casual," would make me gleefully happy - but it's just not in the cards right now. So what's a boy-err, man-err, man-thing-ish, to do?

I suppose I could take care of the hair issue. Longer hair does have a tendency to make you look like a high school senior - principally one who is far too into Magic:The Gathering and will endlessly assert the immortality of certain moments in Led Zepplin's 1977 tour. The simple step of lowering the old ears and adopting a 1960s fatherly 'do will make me look a lot more mature. I can also endeavor to shave more often than once a week. Maybe even every day! All of this adds up to a guy who looks more like a real-world professional than a class-skipping buffoon. Of course, with all of this said, I'm wouldn't be ready to toss out the hoodies and T's even if I did have the cash. There will always be a dark spot in my closet, (and my heart) where the awkward college boy will be given his time.

Gingerbread houses are a rip-off in real estate investment.

Nothing to Say for Myself

These days are spent in rigid adherence to my calendar and daily planners. The new semester has begun and thus the last 5 months before I am, once again, jobless. 2009 has a nice ring to it already. Sure, it stinks in a lot of ways to not know where I'll be or what I'll be doing by the time the clock strikes midnight for the first time in 2010, but in a lot of other ways it's liberating. I'm not pinned down. I'm still in that in-between phase. A floater. A literal world of choices in front of me. I hope I don't read this in 20 years with remorse for having chosen the wrong path but, then again, if God stays a firm fixture in my life I can't imagine Him not making the most of whatever situation I find myself in.

It would seem that 2009 could be the "big" year.