Updated: Nov 17, 2021
As a recent college graduate entering the professional world amidst a global pandemic, I wouldn’t care to admit that I was the human embodiment of an anxiety disorder; simultaneously scared, confused, and crumbling under the pressure of capitalist America and my own desire to achieve success, whatever that means. I graduated a quarter early, glued to a detailed six month plan that I would study for the LSAT and apply for law school by the time the next school year came around. Why did the prospect of enduring the nine month academic schedule for yet another three years, despite finally retiring from my sixteen year stint in the system, give me comfort? I think my own insecurities about failing to realize an idealized version of adulthood that I conjured in my mind drove me to a tunnel vision perspective on my future at a reputable law school. However, after studying for the LSAT for a week (and being thoroughly discouraged, questionably depressed?) I knew that law school wasn’t the route for me, at least not in the time being. Thankfully, my parents have always been understanding and supportive of anything I want to pursue, so long as I pursue something (like microblading). I can vividly recall planning out my first classes at the University of Washington and my dad telling me, “Study whatever you want, it doesn’t really matter in the end as long as you have a degree.”
I’ll stop my monologue here to acknowledge my privilege, as my family has always been a consistent emotional and financial crutch for me. I understand that many, if not most people, don’t enjoy this luxury but I hope this neither deters you from reading my blog nor pursuing your own version of adulthood, whatever that may be.
I instantly rejected his advice, instead preferring to cultivate my laser focus on law by taking counterfeit “pre-law” classes, which consisted of political science (snore) and social justice courses. I loved most of my professors, however, my greatest takeaway from college wasn’t the material I read, but rather the intermediate experience of adulthood and a passion for writing, though I have never nurtured an anecdotal style until now. My dad was right. I moved back to Los Angeles two months ago and am currently on the hunt for a job, the responsibilities of which may or may not relate to my academia. This blog will be a personal record of my trials and tribulations, an early twenty year-old’s diary of finding purpose and creating meaning in this crazy world of ours.
I owe the title of my blog, “Make Coffee, Not War,” wholly to a postcard I picked up while traveling in Vietnam. Literally, the slogan makes reference to the role that fair trade and equal exchange of coffee plays in improving the livelihood of growers in previously imperialised and war torn countries. Metaphorically, in the context of this forum, it encapsulates the message I want to both internalize and encourage my readers (of all ages, but particularly applicable to the “young adult” cohort) to understand: make your coffee and focus on your own happiness, don’t waste your precious time and energy on things that don’t serve you. It sounds so simple, and yet I feel I need constant reminders.
I don’t know where I’m going yet, but I am more than happy to bring you along with me. Please stay tuned for future Dionysian posts on the existential crises of Generation Z, books I enjoyed (or didn’t), restaurants I frequent and think you should too, and more (FYI: I am a fan of the Oxford comma). xx
P.S. this blog is all my own (I don’t have an editor so don’t come for me if my choice of words isn’t up to par with the typical published work you read).
P.P.S. sorry I tricked you into reading my blog if all you want is nice eyebrows.