Living the Pseudo Life

Lessons learned from LJ.  Thus far I’ve endeavored to keep my angst out of the public sphere, but you know what?  Fuck it.  *Cue blanket statement overstating said angst*

WHAT IS WRONG WITH AMERICA?

Our economy has gone to shit.

There’s no gas.

And this morning I woke up to this uplifting piece on the Today Show:

It’s a promo for a documentary that’s airing on BBC America tonight (which I’m not sure I’ll have the stomach to watch) featuring women who own “reborns,” life-like dolls that they treat as real infants.

Figure 1: Why?

And they’re not cheap.  The typical reborn doll runs from $1000 up to $4000.  The women profiled had differing reasons behind their “hobby.”  The mother of a two-year old missed the feeling of holding an infant in her arms.  A childless woman needed an outlet for her maternal feelings.  “They fill a spot in your heart,” says the dolls’ creator.

Much like the Real Girl dolls featured in Lars and the Real Girl, I guess there are two ways you can go with this– creepy or sad.  I think I’m leaning towards the latter.

Great way to start the day huh?  I’m afraid it has caused a downward cognitive spiral and propelled me head first into the existential abyss that is Life After College.  I made the decision about this time last year that I wanted to take some time off after graduation rather than launch straight into graduate school.  It was for the best because had I not, I would have been miserable and most likely failing out of a neuroscience program somewhere.  As it stands, I’ve decided to apply to law school for next fall; but I can’t help but constantly question myself– what AM I doing?

In a lot of ways, this year has seemed kind of like a holding tank before bigger and better things.  Not really my life, but a crude mock up of things to come.  A pseudo life if you will.  Pseudo-homes.  Pseudo-jobs.  Pseudo-relationships.  Pseudo-children.  Hell, pseudo-vice presidential candidates.   (Curiously absent though, Sussudio).

I can think of a few explanations.  Blame it on caprice, indecision, youth.  Or maybe we’re all just afraid of the real thing.  <—-OMG t0t3z d33pz0rz!