Somebody That I Used to Know
New title, new blog. Sorta. Not really, but we'll pretend it is.
This was a very eventful summer in my life. Basically, it all started when my parents were reminded of what a fraud, coward, waste I am. Or was. Hopefully was. Another year passed by without much progress made in my growth as a person. I sucked at college again, and again I was too much of a pussy to tell my parents. They found out when a letter was sent home notifying me that because of my lack of academic progress I'd been placed on non-degree conditional status, which basically means I'm on a slow road back to the middle. I'm limited in how many credits I can take, and if I don't get my GPA up this semester, I'm out. My back is against the wall now.
When I returned home to my parents, relations were strained to say the least. We had the same argument every single day. I can't say I didn't deserve to lose their last ounce of trust. Unsure of my immediate future, I tried to get a job. When my attempts proved fruitless for a few days, my dad grew frustrated and blamed me. But without the use of their cars, my prospects were limited. Eventually, my grandmother, who just wanted to see me back on the right track, lent me her car so I could get to and from UPS. Though I worked for the same company last summer, this time the hours and position were different. I quickly grew to hate the job for a number of reasons. In the meantime, my dad wasn't satisfied with my inability to get a second job on top of the UPS one. Frankly, getting a second job would be nearly impossible due to a lack of reliable transportation, but my parents were dissatisfied nonetheless.
Tensions came to a head when I decided I wanted to quit UPS in favor of another (less reliable but more interesting) job offer. My mom wanted to kick me out of the house. My dad convinced her to let me stay, but under the condition that I pay $100/week rent, which is ridiculous. They essentially forced me to move back to State College. Doing so would be the best thing I did all summer.
The summer of 2006 was the best of my life. Unfortunately, I didn't get to spend much time with my old friends back home, or even with people from Phroth. I was keeping myself busy for the first time in years, and I was enjoying it. I made new friends at the Daily Collegian, meanwhile writing about music every week and getting opportunities I've never had. I interviewed members of three national acts: Nick Harmer, the bassist for Death Cab for Cutie; Jason Hammel, the drummer for Mates of State; and Sam Sanford, a guitarist for Sound Team. I had three front-page stories for the paper: one, a review of the concert featuring those bands; another, the story of the last day of Arboria Records, a long-standing record store in State College; and another, a last-minute breaking story about the announcing of a Sean Paul concert. Most of the stories weren't very big; even the ones I just mentioned mostly weren't much. But hell, I had a lot of fun writing them.
This fall, I'm only taking my maximum of 12 credits. However, I'm also assuming the duties of Features Editor for Phroth, Senior Music Reporter for the Daily Collegian, and working at The Deli. It would seem this could very well be my last semester at Penn State. However, I think back to high school. In my sophomore year, I scheduled the maximum number of credits. I had no lunch period and only two free periods per cycle. I did pep band for football games in the fall, concert band, and I was on the wrestling team in the winter. That spring, I had my best semester ever in high school. I don't know what it is about me, but I very rarely stress out. I'm ready to take this coming semester head-on.
There are a handful of reasons I changed the name of the blog. First of all, as I mentioned before, I'm no longer twenty years old and therefore calling myself a "twentynothing," while self-deprecating, no longer has a double entendre. Secondly, as I decided to start writing, I was listening to the Elliott Smith song of the same title, and the lyrics connected with me. The song is written to someone else, most likely. But like John Lennon's "Nowhere Man," the lyrics could also be directed towards the speaker himself, if you stretch them enough. The object of the lyrics is a person who once needed a friend's help as a guide. Now, the person is flourishing and is "somebody that I used to know." Here's hoping that I'm somebody that I used to know.
This was a very eventful summer in my life. Basically, it all started when my parents were reminded of what a fraud, coward, waste I am. Or was. Hopefully was. Another year passed by without much progress made in my growth as a person. I sucked at college again, and again I was too much of a pussy to tell my parents. They found out when a letter was sent home notifying me that because of my lack of academic progress I'd been placed on non-degree conditional status, which basically means I'm on a slow road back to the middle. I'm limited in how many credits I can take, and if I don't get my GPA up this semester, I'm out. My back is against the wall now.
When I returned home to my parents, relations were strained to say the least. We had the same argument every single day. I can't say I didn't deserve to lose their last ounce of trust. Unsure of my immediate future, I tried to get a job. When my attempts proved fruitless for a few days, my dad grew frustrated and blamed me. But without the use of their cars, my prospects were limited. Eventually, my grandmother, who just wanted to see me back on the right track, lent me her car so I could get to and from UPS. Though I worked for the same company last summer, this time the hours and position were different. I quickly grew to hate the job for a number of reasons. In the meantime, my dad wasn't satisfied with my inability to get a second job on top of the UPS one. Frankly, getting a second job would be nearly impossible due to a lack of reliable transportation, but my parents were dissatisfied nonetheless.
Tensions came to a head when I decided I wanted to quit UPS in favor of another (less reliable but more interesting) job offer. My mom wanted to kick me out of the house. My dad convinced her to let me stay, but under the condition that I pay $100/week rent, which is ridiculous. They essentially forced me to move back to State College. Doing so would be the best thing I did all summer.
The summer of 2006 was the best of my life. Unfortunately, I didn't get to spend much time with my old friends back home, or even with people from Phroth. I was keeping myself busy for the first time in years, and I was enjoying it. I made new friends at the Daily Collegian, meanwhile writing about music every week and getting opportunities I've never had. I interviewed members of three national acts: Nick Harmer, the bassist for Death Cab for Cutie; Jason Hammel, the drummer for Mates of State; and Sam Sanford, a guitarist for Sound Team. I had three front-page stories for the paper: one, a review of the concert featuring those bands; another, the story of the last day of Arboria Records, a long-standing record store in State College; and another, a last-minute breaking story about the announcing of a Sean Paul concert. Most of the stories weren't very big; even the ones I just mentioned mostly weren't much. But hell, I had a lot of fun writing them.
This fall, I'm only taking my maximum of 12 credits. However, I'm also assuming the duties of Features Editor for Phroth, Senior Music Reporter for the Daily Collegian, and working at The Deli. It would seem this could very well be my last semester at Penn State. However, I think back to high school. In my sophomore year, I scheduled the maximum number of credits. I had no lunch period and only two free periods per cycle. I did pep band for football games in the fall, concert band, and I was on the wrestling team in the winter. That spring, I had my best semester ever in high school. I don't know what it is about me, but I very rarely stress out. I'm ready to take this coming semester head-on.
There are a handful of reasons I changed the name of the blog. First of all, as I mentioned before, I'm no longer twenty years old and therefore calling myself a "twentynothing," while self-deprecating, no longer has a double entendre. Secondly, as I decided to start writing, I was listening to the Elliott Smith song of the same title, and the lyrics connected with me. The song is written to someone else, most likely. But like John Lennon's "Nowhere Man," the lyrics could also be directed towards the speaker himself, if you stretch them enough. The object of the lyrics is a person who once needed a friend's help as a guide. Now, the person is flourishing and is "somebody that I used to know." Here's hoping that I'm somebody that I used to know.
posted by Kevin A. Doran at 11:04 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home