life feat. Rihanna

by a nelly fan, http://astralweeksplease.wordpress.com/

In "Just a Dream" Nelly sings, I was at the top/now it feels like I'm in the basement. Lately, I find myself relating to the St. Louis pop star's melancholy.

I think Nelly is talking about loosing his boo, which is sad, but not quite as sad as a liberal arts major with $30k in debt with no prospects of a sexy job or a good man.

I've avoided the feelings of hopelessness, angst, and anger felt by Our Generation for almost a full year after graduating. I am either very level-headed or always drunk. But the time has come for daily phone calls and weekly letters from my loans. I have become quite good at screening my phone calls and my roommates routinely toss the letters into our mail basket where they remain unopened. They are the paparazzi to my Lady Gaga- they will follow me until I pay them.

Trolling internet jobs sites, I am confronted with the fact that I don't master's degree and am not proficient in Excel. But doesn't this administrative job that I don't really want care that my Rhetoric of Reproductive Rights professor thought that I was really smart? And that my mom thinks I'm the most special 23 year old ever? I also won the leadership award in 4th grade and was voted Best Dressed in high school.

Our parents told us You Are Special and our teachers told us You Are Smart. Our friends told us You Are Loved and hot people told us You Are Hot. But it's a cruel joke! The sick, sad world doesn't care about my 40,000 dollar a year education...unless, of course, you are my college loans.

It's not my loans that keep me up at night in a non-sexy way. I know I will pay them back eventually. But what is haunting is what people have to do/sacrifice/grow sad & numb in order to pay college loans back.

I went to the bank last week and was overcome with paralyzing fear. It wasn't because I have $50 to my name (it's enough to buy eggs and beer and I'll have more money one day). I was waiting to deposit a check and the bank tellers- let's call them "Jenny" and "Mike"- filled me with a crippling fear I haven't felt since Sarah Palin entered our national consciousness in 2008.

Jenny wore a v-neck sweater and a half smile. She looked like she takes advantage of her work discount at Planet Fitness-she's seen her mom's thighs and the jiggly future is frightening. She watches romantic comedies on TBS and wonders if that guy from Saturday night will call her. Mike wears a wedding ring and a geometric pattern tie. He looks like he plays in an alt-rock band with his buddies on the weekend. His wife isn't crazy about the band and wants kids "soonish".

Jenny and Mike are The Middle; bored, pudgy, and watching Dancing with the Stars.

The Middle is were most end up. It's inevitable. You are expected to go to college but can't afford it, so you take out loans. You have to pay those loans back so you get a job. You probably need a car to get to your job and you might as well get married. You have kids and they need a house and somewhere between your daughter's braces and the house mortgage, you become "fiscally conservative". The Middle isn't terrible, it's just Life. Society accepts The Middle and advertises to it.

The Middle of course terrifies me. I am so scared that my genetically phat ass will automatically flatten after too much time on a swivel chair and too many kids. I am terrified that The Middle is just what happens because because I can't actually afford to Follow! My! Dreams! the way that my parents and my liberal arts education told me I could.

My friend Meredith contends that if we were going to 'sell out' we would have done it already. I'm not so sure. Is the only difference between me and an accountant acrylic nails and the fact that she knows that a Real Job is the only way to back back her loans?

In college I used to frolic and drink coffee with my friends. During the night we'd have dance parties in the basement with cheap beer and everyone we knew. I didn't know I was paying $30k (plus more. Thanks mom & dad! I'll pay you back one day!) for this beautiful, ignorant youth. I could afford to not care.

Our generation was told that we can do anything by parents who were the first to do kinda just that. In my happiest and drunkest moments, I stumble into believing in our confidence and youthfulness. I went to college! I am smart! I am owed! But then the sobering realities of This Economy and college loans and underemployment prove to ruin my hopeful buzz.

Is The Middle avoidable and our loans affordable? Or is it only Just a Dream? If you're drunk enough to believe the latter, put your hands up.