Hi Mittens -

There’s a certain guilty pleasure in addressing someone by that name, as though I’m chatting with a cocktail waitress at a 1950s club owned by Hugh Hefner.

Of course, the times have now changed. Hugh Hefner’s party invitations are to be avoided, and Mittens is more likely to be a committed environmentalist with an interest in sustainable food practices.

I’ve been in town for all of one week, and when I’m not questioning the decision to temporarily sublet the room of a friend’s 14-year old son (robot dinosaur decor), I’m slowly getting reacquainted with this hot humid lovely city.

I hope your weekend is off to a good start.

- Me

So now I find myself pondering the process of packing up my San Francisco life — and imagining my new Cambridge world.

Orientation session

Me:  Umm, excuse me, sir.  I have a question.

Administrator:  Yes?

Me:  What sort of binder paper should I bring?  College rule?  What about a mechanical pencil?

School #2 said they liked me and that I could study for less.

School #3 said no thanks.

It’s the grad school dating game.  The schools might change, but the essays stay almost the same.

Fortunately, I got into School #2, the one school that my essays were originally written for.  Foreign policy.  International affairs.  Diverse student body.  Smart people.

But what was up with School #3?

So when I realized we could watch the Academy Awards without cable, I ran into the living room.  The mysterious “EZTV Digital Converter” came out of the box, the housemate’s TV was rearranged, and the sofa became the place where you could watch as Tom Hanks killed the punchline.

And now, it was Round II of the TV Without Cable experiment.  So why was Kevin Bacon speaking Spanish?  With a flesh wound?  And a blonde lover with a knife?  Who also spoke Spanish?

Somehow, just by pointing a metal antenna at the sky, I got it all:  Taiwanese News, BBC World, and Madonna offering marriage counseling to crazy couples.

All for the latest episode of 30 Rock.

As I scanned the map, I noticed a territory called Chinese Kashmir, which led me to this.  It also led me to wonder if one should really be learning about Sino-Indian territorial disputes from something called Conquer Club.

(click to enlarge)

I don’t mean earlier in the calendar year, mind you.  I mean earlier in the recession year.  The more than 365 days of long hours spent doing mildly painful things:  sending resumes, scanning listings, doing jobs that fed the tummy, but not the mind.

In hindsight, he was quite right.  When the opportunity cost drops to near zero, your dreams become hard to ignore.

Your hunger for expression skyrockets, so you go get a byline.  You start craving some knowledge, so you chase after a degree.  You find yourself thinking about the job you’d really enjoy.

So you go launch an organization.

It’s a little spooky when you put it like that, no?

For it is the gut that tells you repeatedly, “You do not like what you must do.  But you must do it.  And I, your gut, will remind you of your physical displeasure.”

This is what a recession means for the children of (relative) privilege.  We have our degrees, our experiences, our resumes.  And so we can find work.  But it is not the work we really want.  It is the work we are lucky to find.

And so we go to work, knowing that we have a job when others don’t.  Even if it is the wrong job.  Not because it is unethical work.  But because it is the wrong work.

And the knots of displeasure keep reminding us so.

So when I turned to the woman on my right, I should have been ready.

Why? Because I was speaking to Hegemony Girl.

You know the type.  The kind of person who uses the word hegemony in her first sentence. As in, “We met through a group that focuses on Christian Hegemony.”

And. Then. She. Preceded. To. Tell. Me. How. Christianity. Shapes. How. We. Think.