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a home + living guide for the post-college, pre-parenthood, quasi-adult generation

04.16.2007

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04.16.2007 | 1 2

You know how when youíre 12 years old, and know everything in the world, 25 sounds really, really old? And then you get to 25, and realize how you have no idea about why youíre doing what youíre doing, and where you want to be heading, and how on earth youíre to get there on the off chance you actually do someday get a clue. As 25 gives way to 26, then 27, with the big 3-0 looming on the horizon, you have that quarter-life crisis; you console yourself that maybe, just maybe, 30 isnít all that ancient either. And then youíre suddenly there, and you still donít feel like youíre living the perfectly pulled-together life you always imagined for your grown-up self.

A suspicion gradually starts to sneak up on you. Maybe this not knowing? It isnít just a phase, something youíll pass through eventually. Maybe youíll spend your whole life wondering why and how and what if Ė is there something better, is there something more? Meanwhile, the biggest part of this whole epiphany isnít even that, but this: youíre really kind of okay with the nebulousness. Life is uncertain; change is inevitable. And thatís a big part of the fun.

I was 25 when I started Digs, which doesnít feel all that long ago, until I realize that this was way back in 2000. Playing around with ideas for a catchy tagline to describe this lilí site of mine, I came up with the blurb you may or may not have noticed sitting in the left corner of every page since day one: ďA home and living guide for the post-college, pre-parenthood, quasi-adult generation.Ē I envisioned Digs as a source for those of us in that weird limbo-land between our student days and honest-to-goodness grown-up-hood Ė free from the parental safety net, responsible entirely for ourselves for the first time. The start point for this phase of life began somewhere around graduation day (maybe even a little sooner for some); the end point, in my mind, coincided with becoming a parent oneself. I suppose I knew that not all of us would actually want to become parents; that parenthood was not a necessary stage of life; that one could progress from quasi-adult to plain adult just fine without ever wanting to become responsible for another tiny little humanís well-being. But for me, personally, having kids one day seemed like the natural progression. Itís just that the one day seemed an unfathomably long ways off; I figured Iíd spend a good chunk of time figuring out my own life first, getting my act together, building a home and life for myself and the boy, slowly getting ready for that far-away day in the future.

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