Sober Realizations

This title really has dual meanings. First of all, I'm sober as I'm realizing. Secondly, the realizations are sober. Amazing.

Although with this damn research memo, I could probably do with a change in the first characteristic.

But anyways, I was browsing my iPhoto library today, looking for the perfect photo to set as my desktop. As is my wont, I usually select a photo from my year in England, and the travels that accompanied it. So, I did have a scene of the Welsh highlands before, and I recently had a photo I took of a favourite road sign in Vienna. Who else thinks that the intersection of "Beethovengang" and "Eroicagasse" is hilarious?

But anyways, I settled on a photo that I took from the top of the Aiguille du Midi in Chamonix, France. Right in the shadow of Mont Blanc. And, I might add, one of my most vivid and happy memories. Hell, I'll just post the photo. It's absolutely magnificent.



Imagine actually seeing that with your own eyes, thousands of feet above the valley floor.

This past weekend, I got to talk to a friend of mine who is an "actual adult," working a steady professional job, (currently) outside the graduate academia that myself and most of my friends have cocooned up inside. And it was very nice to chat. One thing that came up was my friend's realization that barring a career change or further education, she was in the life cycle of work that could very well consume her for 40 some years. After college, in that working world, as a "real adult," well, it's a sobering reality.

I think of myself, who takes great pride in my European exploits. I've looked at the photos for so long, I've just sort of assumed that it was my destiny to continue that jet-setting lifestyle, going off for month long escapades without a care in the world. My conversation this weekend, combined with a sudden realization of my own imminent professional life, well, that kinda put a damper on things. The reality is that the likelihood of another month spent criscrossing the globe is rather slim. Maybe one more brief trip this summer. But after that, real life sets in. Work, school, friends, (presumably) a family. The proverbial "tying down" that inevitably happens.

It also doesn't help that my old friend Rick Steves keeps sending me emails. He always seems to be sitting in a Parisien cafe sipping coffee as he blogs, too. It's like rubbing salt in a wound. Not you too Rick.

Now, I'm not exactly a believer in the dichotomy that once work starts, dreams die. Or something to that extent. But I'm also a realist, I suppose. The likelihood of me living and working in London is probably rather slim. Doesn't mean it won't happen, but the odds are stacked against it. Barring that though, I'll just have to take advantage of other situations, I suppose.

I might buy a Chamonix poster. Or go hear a symphony this weekend. Who knows.