Getting to know you

I put on my big girl pants last night and went out to meet some fellow journalism-school students.

All. By. Myself.

It was a big step and I am very pleased to say that I survived and, yes, enjoyed myself.

The gathering took place at a bar/restaurant around the corner from my apartment, so I really had no excuse, though I tried to think of one while sitting on my couch sipping a glass of white wine.

The bar/restaurant was actually the very same that I took Pam and Lois to the first night I arrived in Chicago. It was much more pleasant (read: no DJ Jazzy Terrible Taste). There were four people already there and a good 10 or so more showed up. And boy did I chat it up. There were all facets of people represented: the eager youthfuls, fresh from their April/May graduations; the travelers who had spent the past two-to-three years in the peace corp or working or romping abroad; the born-to-do-this who were three steps ahead of us all. Mostly they were youthful, but I guess that would make sense as it was a meet-and-drink scenario.

And where was I in this mix? Allusively older. Apparently I look "really young (explanation point)." I got that line more than three times after mentioning my college graduation year. Though I have a good 4-8 (gasp. Yes. One girl was 20!) years on these kids I couldn't help but revel in the shock. It's kind of hilarious though I'll certainly take the complement. I swear my laugh lines are sticking around longer than my smile. Hm.

But all in all I feel good. People are nice and equally nervous about this next endeavor. Phew. With still sweaty palms, I'm ready for Monday.

Indeed.