Hi. Welcome. Glad to see you've made it here. Let me fill you in on the story to date:

I was born close to twenty-two years ago, said my first words, and got enrolled in preschool. I didn't particularly want to go. I did well in preschool, though, and moved on to other schools, and before I knew it, the words I'd started to say were getting bigger and bigger and organizing themselves into persuasive college admissions essays. This is how I ended up getting into Swarthmore four years ago. I didn't particularly want to go. Three-and-a-half years later, after my words had turned up in myriad problem sets and seminar papers, the powers-that-be told me it was time for me to graduate. At that point, I really, really, didn't want to go. You might take from all this that I have an aversion to change. I prefer to think of it as a gift for cultivating an affinity for my present surroundings. Whatever the case may be, I had no choice but to graduate and move on (or else vandalize the President's house during senior week, which I really didn't want to do), which brings us to present.

I am currently a bright, talented, energetic, liberal arts major who can multi-task effectively, prioritize deadlines, and reason quantitatively, and is also unemployed. These days, my words find themselves landing in The Way Things Look From Here, this blog Career Services asked me to write for reasons I can't possibly fathom. Not only am I jobless, but I am the poster child for how not to use their office. For three years, I deleted practically every e-mail they sent me without reading it. (During senior year, nascent guilt led me instead to save their e-mails, forget about them for three weeks, then delete them when I noticed all relevant deadlines had passed. Unfortunately, this was not a particularly guilt-assuaging system.). The closest thing I had to a resume was a Facebook profile. (Hey, I could've totally bonded with potential employers over our love of Fight Club and Family Guy). While other enterprising Swatties were figuring out how they wanted to make a difference in the world, I was figuring out how I wanted to make a dinner out of Sharples food. Thus, I'm somewhat baffled that Career Services chose me to dole out advice instead of one of the umpteen-dozen other successful Swatties who marched across the amphitheater stage with me three short months ago. I may be witty, charming, and dashing to boot, but I'm not sure I'm qualified to dispense worldly wisdom.

The upshot of this is that we'll have to learn about the real world together. Think of it as a Swarthmore-style seminar on the grandest scale. Every couple weeks, I will present my experiences and predicaments in the same way one might present a paper on NMR spectroscopy or Proust. (Ignoring the fact that most professors don't let allow you to submit seminar papers by posting them on your blog). You all will laugh a bit, make some comments, and take notes to make sure that you don't repeat the same foolish mistakes that I do. Then (if you're in a considerate mood), you can give me some tips to keep my together. At the same time, everything I learn, I'll share with you. It'll be a win-win situation.

So that's the story of my life and the game plan for here on out. Back with more details about my life, the universe, and everything soon.

Until then,

Swattie Emeritus