You know how in the Renaissance, poets were super into immortalizing themselves through verse? Guys like Shakespeare and Spenser believed that if they wrote something truly exceptional, that piece of them would live forever, preserving their passion and memory until the end of time.
That may seem like a lofty goal, but the thing is—I’ve already achieved it. I was immortalized on a hallowed day in 2009, when I was quoted in the Westlake High School yearbook:
It’s wise, it’s true, and it was definitely worth blowing up to fill an eighth of a yearbook page, because otherwise, no one would know what to do at lunchtime. This is my legacy; it’s all the Westlake Warriors have to remember me by. Which is great, because I’ve spent the last five years trying to forget high school.
When you were a teenager, did a bald fat man ever look at you, sigh wistfully, and tell you that you were living the best years of your life? Did it make you think, “Holy shit, I have to fucking kill myself?” If so, what a weird coincidence! Because that exact same thing happened to me! This bald fat man really gets around!
I hope you didn’t listen to him, though, because that guy is the same guy that wears a lot of sweaty track suits and tells pretty girls they should smile more. I’ve only been out of high school for five years, but already those five years have been an infinite improvement.
If, at my high school graduation, you had asked me where I saw myself in five years, I would have been like, “Ughh, easy question. I’ll be living with my sister in a two-bedroom apartment in Los Angeles. I’ll be working as an assistant on a TV show called ‘Outlander,’ having gone to college and majored in Literature and Theatre Arts. But—plot-twist—I’ll be super into comedy. Random, I know, because I’m not into comedy at ALL right now! And I rarely speak! It will all start halfway through college, when I decide I want to work in entertainment, and I intern for ‘Entertainment Tonight’ and ‘The Insider.’ They’ll assign me articles to write, some of which will be satires, and I’ll realize that I like humor as a means of expressing myself, so I’ll start posting funny ideas on Facebook and Twitter. My friends will encourage me to start a blog, and from there, I’ll become an intern for Conan O’Brien. I’ll discover that writing comedy is where I most thrive, but the Conan writers will advise me to get some performance experience. I’ll randomly audition for an improv team in San Diego after receiving a mass email from them, and I’ll get cast, because I’ll be considered “shameless” and “lacking an embarrassment complex,” which apparently are positive things for a comedian. I’ll spend the next few months feeling happy, free, confused, and lonely, which will, ironically, be the lyrics to a hit Taylor Swift song at the time. (Taylor Swift has more staying power than we know.) That’s when I’ll graduate, move to LA, and split my time between work, improvising, writing, and drinking wine while watching Netflix. Obviously.”
Am I about to get preachy? Never listen to me preach. I am literally talking out of my ass 98% of the time. Look, I just misused the word “literally” in a really gross way. But I do have a point, and my point is that five years ago, I had NO IDEA I would be here now, and yet I’m so happy that I am. So even though I frequently worry about my future, panic about my career, and wonder if I’m doing everything “right” while shoving ice cream into my face, deep down inside, I know I need to calm the frick down.
They say you should live the life you have imagined, and to an extent, that’s true—but my life has already been so much bigger and fuller than I ever could have imagined. We put so much pressure on ourselves and the universe to make our dreams come true, when really, dreams can change and evolve at any moment. Sometimes our dreams fail, but maybe that’s because they’re too small and limited to support the people we are and the people we could be. I have spent so much of my life being cynical, and I've never had any right to be.
Working towards bettering ourselves, pursuing our passions—that shit’s important. But imagining that we know exactly where we want to be in five years, when this world is huge and unpredictable, and we are individuals brimming with potential—that’s the real joke. Where will you be in five years? You’ll be in 2019. Or maybe not. Maybe you’ll be dead. Have I gone too far? I hope you won’t be dead.
I hope we’ll be wonderfully surprised with whatever our lives have become.
So quote me on THAT in your yearbook. And remind me that I wrote this blog post the next time I’m hiding under a homemade tent of snuggies freaking out about my life (approximately twenty minutes from now.)
That may seem like a lofty goal, but the thing is—I’ve already achieved it. I was immortalized on a hallowed day in 2009, when I was quoted in the Westlake High School yearbook:
It’s wise, it’s true, and it was definitely worth blowing up to fill an eighth of a yearbook page, because otherwise, no one would know what to do at lunchtime. This is my legacy; it’s all the Westlake Warriors have to remember me by. Which is great, because I’ve spent the last five years trying to forget high school.
When you were a teenager, did a bald fat man ever look at you, sigh wistfully, and tell you that you were living the best years of your life? Did it make you think, “Holy shit, I have to fucking kill myself?” If so, what a weird coincidence! Because that exact same thing happened to me! This bald fat man really gets around!
I hope you didn’t listen to him, though, because that guy is the same guy that wears a lot of sweaty track suits and tells pretty girls they should smile more. I’ve only been out of high school for five years, but already those five years have been an infinite improvement.
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| Started from the bottom, now we here |
If, at my high school graduation, you had asked me where I saw myself in five years, I would have been like, “Ughh, easy question. I’ll be living with my sister in a two-bedroom apartment in Los Angeles. I’ll be working as an assistant on a TV show called ‘Outlander,’ having gone to college and majored in Literature and Theatre Arts. But—plot-twist—I’ll be super into comedy. Random, I know, because I’m not into comedy at ALL right now! And I rarely speak! It will all start halfway through college, when I decide I want to work in entertainment, and I intern for ‘Entertainment Tonight’ and ‘The Insider.’ They’ll assign me articles to write, some of which will be satires, and I’ll realize that I like humor as a means of expressing myself, so I’ll start posting funny ideas on Facebook and Twitter. My friends will encourage me to start a blog, and from there, I’ll become an intern for Conan O’Brien. I’ll discover that writing comedy is where I most thrive, but the Conan writers will advise me to get some performance experience. I’ll randomly audition for an improv team in San Diego after receiving a mass email from them, and I’ll get cast, because I’ll be considered “shameless” and “lacking an embarrassment complex,” which apparently are positive things for a comedian. I’ll spend the next few months feeling happy, free, confused, and lonely, which will, ironically, be the lyrics to a hit Taylor Swift song at the time. (Taylor Swift has more staying power than we know.) That’s when I’ll graduate, move to LA, and split my time between work, improvising, writing, and drinking wine while watching Netflix. Obviously.”
Am I about to get preachy? Never listen to me preach. I am literally talking out of my ass 98% of the time. Look, I just misused the word “literally” in a really gross way. But I do have a point, and my point is that five years ago, I had NO IDEA I would be here now, and yet I’m so happy that I am. So even though I frequently worry about my future, panic about my career, and wonder if I’m doing everything “right” while shoving ice cream into my face, deep down inside, I know I need to calm the frick down.
They say you should live the life you have imagined, and to an extent, that’s true—but my life has already been so much bigger and fuller than I ever could have imagined. We put so much pressure on ourselves and the universe to make our dreams come true, when really, dreams can change and evolve at any moment. Sometimes our dreams fail, but maybe that’s because they’re too small and limited to support the people we are and the people we could be. I have spent so much of my life being cynical, and I've never had any right to be.
Working towards bettering ourselves, pursuing our passions—that shit’s important. But imagining that we know exactly where we want to be in five years, when this world is huge and unpredictable, and we are individuals brimming with potential—that’s the real joke. Where will you be in five years? You’ll be in 2019. Or maybe not. Maybe you’ll be dead. Have I gone too far? I hope you won’t be dead.
I hope we’ll be wonderfully surprised with whatever our lives have become.
So quote me on THAT in your yearbook. And remind me that I wrote this blog post the next time I’m hiding under a homemade tent of snuggies freaking out about my life (approximately twenty minutes from now.)
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