Cabin in the City

A lot of folks are recapping the past decade and it’s interesting to see how far my friends and folks I admire have come in the past ten years. While I’m tempted to break down the decade by year, I thought I’d just reflect on where I was ten years ago, because 2010 was a hell of a year, and it really turned me into the person I am now.

I feel like it’s not the brightest spot in my life, yet it’s a time I think about with some fondness. But I’m nothing if not nostalgic—even for bad times. Let’s just get into it.

Picture It… Madison, Wisconsin, 2010

Let me set the scene for you: In January 2010, I was returning to school after winter break. I was friendless, thanks to a huge falling out with all my college friends, and living alone (my roommate moved out after the aforementioned disaster). I was straight up not having a good time.

But I didn’t really process these emotions in any effective way. Instead, I just threw myself into the new semester, a new job and a new project, hoping that they’d fix how I was feeling.

Trying to Fix Problems with Pizza

The first thing I did was get a job at a pizza joint. This filled my evenings and weekends so I didn’t feel so painfully lonely (though I’d never tell you that’s how I was feeling at the time—I’m not even sure I knew that’s what I was feeling).

…and by Just Spending a Lot of Time Alone

I also threw myself into my classes this semester. I took film photography, drawing and journalism (and surely a few others I can’t recall).

Photography and drawing were the perfect classes for me at this time. I could sink a lot of time into a project and say it was for the sake of my art. I could walk into the darkroom on a Saturday morning and not leave until it was time to sling pizzas at night. It was perfect. I was alone, but I was productive—not sad or lonely or in a high-functioning depression (I was all of those things)!

The Unexpected Highlight

But outside of my college’s art wing, I was heading into my first (and truthfully only) journalism class. I remember this class more than any other. I remember how the professor wore a vest every day, where I sat by the door and the beguilingly handsome dude in the VANS sweatshirt that sat at the head of the table (that was Michael!).

I remember the day our first assignments were due. The professor asked for someone to volunteer their piece to critique on the projector. No one wanted to do this, but I was the kind of student who could not stand a lengthy silence, so I just volunteered my piece so we could get on with it.

I was stunned when the professor said it was good.

When I received good marks on my next assignment, I started to gain a bit of confidence. When my professor talked about reviving the school newspaper, I volunteered to copy edit.

Living On the Edge

When the time came to kickstart the paper (On the Edge), there was only one other student who offered to help, and we became defacto editors-in-chief.

I was instantly hooked on the job. When I came back for the fall semester, I was more excited than ever about the paper. I had a new co-editor and was thrilled about our new staff writer (Michael!).

I loved spending time in our office. There was always a member of our staff there (OK, that person was me) and it was right in the thick of campus. I felt like hot shit as an editor (over-confident as always) and felt like I was reestablishing myself a bit socially (emphasis on “a bit”).

That semester, I felt like the best version of myself working on the paper. I loved calling the shots, working on the layout and seeing my work in print. And getting a shoutout (positive or negative) always pepped me up. I mean, if the dean of students isn’t throwing your paper at you calling a story lies, what kind of editor are you? (This happened and the story was fact.)

The Grand Finale (of 2010, at Least)

In December 2010, I graduated. It was one of the happiest moments of my life. I felt proud, accomplished and like I had a mission.

In the end, 2010 showed me where I wanted to go. Falling into that deep hole sucked. But pulling myself up with food (Pizza Brutta is the best pizza place in Wisconsin—try it), art and, most especially, writing saved me. And by the end of the year and the semester, I knew what I wanted after graduation and for my life ahead: to write.

2010 changed me—I had an inkling then, but I can say definitively that it really has. So here’s to 2020. May it be better than 2010, but perhaps just as clarifying and transformative.