I decided that at twenty-one years of age, I am not yet as educated or articulate as I assumed I would be at this point in my life. I have always considered myself a rather intelligent person. If not intelligent, at least fully capable of being rationally well-informed, sarcastic, and perceptive. And yet, I fear my aplomb has made me too cocky to put forth the effort to learn.
While visiting my best friend in Manhattan this past week, there were two instances in which my ignorance and inability to contribute anything to the conversation left me wondering when I stopped learning and why I had not read an entire book for pleasure in years.
The first occurrence was in the midst of my perfect hook-up with Mr. Right Now. It had been an unquestionably ideal night. I immediately fell in love with the roommate of the guy my best friend was dating; he was a dark haired, tan, "halfy". He's Mexican half gave him smooth skin and a hairless body. To top off his pleasing physique, he was an investment banker. At twenty-five he was already making more money than my mother currently makes and more money than I will probably ever produce working in film. Investment banking--a subject I knew nothing about. If I were to define it, I would say describe it as a job where people invest money--really specific right?
We were cuddled together on the most comfortable bed from the W Hotel. The window blinds were half open and I had been starring outside at air vents on the rooftop of the building next door, which had not been visible until daylight broke. Mr. Right Now proclaimed his job to me when I asked what exactly he did. "FX Portfolio and Risk Strategy", he declared, "Pick a business you know a lot about". I knew my educated self had failed me when he began explaining investment banking in terms of Paramount Pictures and Australian movie-making. how must I project myself for him to assume right off the bat that I knew nothing of investment banking? To add insult to injury, I still did not understand what his job was even after his analogy to the film world--maybe he didn't understand the film business? Lying in the investment banker's arms I concluded, I will read a book on this. How is it that I know nothing about investment banking; it seems like such a commonplace job. Surprisingly enough, when I asked my co-workers what investment banking was, their reply--"Investment banking? I'm looking up marajauna".
The other instance in which my incompetance prevailed was with the other guy my best freind was dating. He was 29, in midst of a mid-life crisis, dating a girl barely old enough to drink. With such a reputable occupation--the chief of staff of the senator of New Jersey to be specific, I must suppose that he was of above average intelligence. Of course, his age explained his intelligence as well. Still, I like to think that it is not only possible, but reasonable to think that I could possibly posses the same degree of knowledge as he. And yet, in a conversation involving taxes, elections, and state policies, I was stumped.
I must admit, politics, science, math, and wars are not my subjects of interest. I much prefer the arts, film, painting, photography, English, and history. However, I believe it important to be well-rounded and be able to carry on a conversation with someone--even if they are an expert in the area. Even my best friend could contribute to the politician's insights; whether this was because she herself made a point to investigate the subjects or because she learned about his world through dating him, she knew a great deal more about something than I did. I say this not because I am jealous of her brain power, but because as my longest friend and fellow twenty-one year old, I measure my own competency by her competency. As I continue living this twenty-first year of my life, I commit to continued learning in this next decade. It has been too long since I have read a whole book. Since these embarrassing incidents, I have already read The Unbearable Lightness of Being and begun to read Love in The Time of Cholera and a book on Klimt.
In making a probably false promise to myself--I hope to write on this blog everyday. Perhaps the continual act of writing, looking up words and grammar, and reading will improve my learnedness and ease my disappointment with my current state of mind.
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