We’re taking a break from Plastics. Maybe forever.
It’s not that we don’t like writing, or that we don’t care about giving you expert insight/self-deprecating anecdotes about preparing for life beyond college. Don’t think that for a second. You’d break our hearts.
We started Plastics because we were concerned that we’d never be able to enjoy ourselves as adults. We thought that writing about it and exploring some issues related to adult unhappiness would help.
What happened though is that in the process of constantly wringing our hands about the future, we became pretty goddamned miserable. And it didn’t help us think of what we wanted to do after graduation.
We learned a lot this semester, and one of the biggest things we learned is this: The world is really, really messed up. Pretty much everything is messed up, from the economy, to the ozone layer, to the political climate, to globalization, to post-colonialism, to the whole college industry. It’s bonkers out there.
Recently, we realized, there’s really only two sensible reactions to all the crazy shit going on:
1. Absolutely freak out. Become crippled by fear of the crumbling world.
2. Have tons of fun while there’s still time.
In the past, we would have gone with the first reaction, simply because it’s our natural tendency to worry. But freaking out doesn’t make the world any less insane, and meanwhile, the small window where we can be young and wild grows smaller.
So instead we’re just going to have fun. And we’re really going to go for it. The only thing stopping us is all the neuroses and anxiety (in a word: Plastics) that dominated our lives this semester. In that case, Plastics has to go.
Ceasing to imagine our own futures in plastics is an easy enough step — our other resolutions for 2012 will be the more challenging but ultimately important endeavors.
This year we need to put ourselves out there: We’ve got to snap up writing opportunities at the most winning publications on the whole internet and exercise our brains by maintaining a very very casual book club.
We’ve also got to become friendly with other young journalists who wear similar oversized glasses and strike up witty banter with all the hoppin cats we will surely meet at swing dance parties in urban barns.
So one chapter ends and another begins. We hope you’ll join us on the other side, in real life, where the fun is. Hit us up with deets for your next adventure or shindig. We’d love to crash your party.
Until then, we wish everyone a happy new year and the best of luck.
— Jordan and Arielle