May 1, 2002


It is going to be one heck of a summer. I hope I can survive.

A Note to the Reader:

There is much to be said about life in your twenties. Things are supposed to happen. Some go to college, some start careers, some get married and have kids, some do all of the above, and some don’t. I guess I’ve done a little bit of everything, but in that same breath it would be more appropriate to state that I have really done a little bit of nothing My twenty-fifth birthday was this last June of 2002, and since that dreaded day I have been living as if my sixties were right around the corner. Threatened by time, responsibility, and the need to map out a future, I have been trying to cram all of my duties and procrastinated tasks into one session. It is beginning to play on my nerves. I’ve been to college, I’ve traveled, I’ve worked and I’ve just sat around wasting time, but in the wake of this late hour I do not regret any of my executive decisions. So, here I am back at the home front picking up my last class in order to complete my associate’s degree. I am teaching myself how to play the guitar on an old Harmony model that my stepmother gave to my older brother years ago. The tips of my fingers are now permanently numb. I have also just recently asked my mother (yes, I still live with her) to give me piano lessons on a recently acquired keyboard that my aunt swiped from her school. It’s okay, she’s the music teacher, and they don’t even know it’s gone. I am trying to find a job so I can retreat back to the mountains come spring, but the city of Houston refuses to comply. I am attempting to finish my book. Cramming. I do not plan on settling down and raising a family. I don’t plan on climbing the corporate ladder. I don’t plan on working dead-end jobs forever. I don’t plan on living with my mom forever. I have taken a look around me at all the other participants in my age group, and it seems to me that my resume is a quite popular one. The privilege of possessing direction is limited to a lucky few, and the rest of us poor saps are forced to walk blindly towards a vast array of different directions. Traveling has become a popular past time to some, and while many enjoy sharing stories about backpacking in Thailand or making their way across ancient oceans to visit exotic islands, I, again, do not have the privilege of relaying such adventures. Seven years ago when I crossed the Texas state line into New Mexico for the first time, I thought my head was going to pop off I was so excited, but since then, I have been committed to…

Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist