The hardest part about a quarterlife crisis is having to use such an unsavory term to describe truly uncomfortable feelings. I wish we had a more subtle way to say, “I’m in my twenties and I’m lost.”
I’ve been thinking about this because recently, a friend who is 27, told me she was finally out of her year-long quarterlife crisis. I was amazed she could nail it down to such a specific time period.
There was a stretch when it seemed like every year I somehow gained another 5 pounds, made $4 less an hour, and racked up even more debt. I didn’t feel like I could control my body or my finances and oh man, it was stressful.
I had no interest in reading Lean In, because I had seen Sheryl Sandberg’s TedTalk and figured I got her point. I just didn’t like it.
And that point was: women shouldn’t scale back their ambition because they might have kids someday. Instead, we should lean in to our careers, because we don’t know if/when we’ll have kids. Also, the world needs more female leaders, and it’s up to us.
It all seemed annoyingly preachy, like Michael Phelps telling us to train harder for the 400 i.m. without asking, “Hey, do you even want to swim?”
I had the good fortune to go to Reykjavik this weekend. Based on my extensive knowledge of the country, having spent 48 hours there, I decided to write a travel guide to Iceland.
It really is a bit shocking how quickly gay marriage transformed from being a fringe, politically toxic position just a few years ago to a virtual piety that must be affirmed in decent company. Whenever I write or speak about any of the issues on which I focus, I always emphasize that a posture of defeatism - which is a form of learned impotence: a belief that meaningful change is impossible - is misguided. This demonstrates why that is true: even the most ossified biases and entrenched institutional injustices can be subverted - if the necessary passion and will are summoned and the right strategies found.
i went to red book and it had nothing to do with ikea!
I worried that Red Hook would be so cool that I wouldn’t relate, because every time I read about the place (except for ikea and sadly, sandy) it’s about how some artist moved there to live in a loft and make sculptures out of MTA maps.
Sometimes trends scare me before I get to know them because (1) I am not a forward-thinking person, and (2) I feel confused when I don’t get them.
For example: five years ago, everyone in Williamsburg was wearing neon plastic sunglasses and I thought, why do I feel like I’m in a sci-fi movie? Why are they all being deliberately weird in the exact same way? I hate this! Then, a few years later, I bought some of my own plastic sunglasses and it was too late because I am a trend canary.
But Red Hook was A-OK. Eric and I had a great lunch at the Good Fork; that place alone is worth a journey. If delicious bibimbap on brunch menus is a thing, maybe I’m ready for the future. Also: possibly best biscuits ever? That’s a bold statement so I want to be careful with my words.
I do NOT recommend Red Hook if it’s your first or second time in NYC (lots to see in Manhattan), but it’s a great place to go on your third trip here, like if you travel for business.
Yesterday I was in one of those conversations where you to try explain the premise of Perfect Strangers to a millenial. She’d sent me this video game, but had no idea that Larry and Balki were once on a hit TV show.
I love that the MTA has an initiative called “Poetry in Motion.” I love when you’re reminded, on a crowded subway, to try loving life. I love that a stranger put this on the 2 Train. I love Mary Ruefle. I love all the little miracles.
I went because I wanted to spend time with my friend, and was feeling more amenable to the idea of “movement” after being on a yoga retreat.
But I had no interest in spinning, or getting my ass kicked, or bike-riding, or that awful weird-mat smell I associate with fitness classes, or being with a group of women who were (I assumed) so obsessed with thin that they were choosing to suffer on a Sunday morning.
A mature person might say: I did not think it would be my style.
We need a hobby, or we need a dream, or technology has made it too easy to be an internet troll, or we don’t realize we’re being internet trolls because we have blind spots (it’s OK, we’re human!), or we think bullying only counts if the person is not famous, or it’s a distraction from trying to understand North Korea.
I saw a good quote over at Alain de Botton’s Twitter, which was something along the lines of: “if you’re not embarrassed by who you were a few years ago, then you’re not learning enough.”
