There are few things that someone in their twenties will really search for. And I mean search... possible Internet search engine involvement, physical movement and moments of inner monologue kind of searching.
The first of course being the coveted 2-for-1 happy hour special at a bar that is centrally located between the participant's workplaces and their homes. While the 2-for-1 is a no-brainer in any major city, and the location is easy enough to find, it's the combination of the two that puts google into a state of complete exhaustion.
The second thing that a 20-something will search high and low for, and I mean this very literally, is the television remote control. In today's world with DVR saving the lives of all boob tube addicts the search and rescue is more of an annoyance than an urgent emergency recovery. But I think you will all agree with me when I say that when you have spent your day crunching numbers -- or whatever it is that you do -- you want to come home and be comforted immediately by the world's best babysitter, your television. After removing the couch cushions and looking in the obvious hiding spots, which include but are not limited to under the couch, in every drawer of the living room and next to all the other televisions in your home, you stop and really think about the last time you saw it. You rack your brain harder than you have in weeks, months even, and you come up blank with no direction whatsoever. Thats when the terror sets in. Sure, you could stand by the television and manually press the buttons to find your favorite housewives, but these days people are living in space and computers are the size of your palm, and standing up to switch the channel is just not going to happen. Thus, it is time to get physical. During this portion terror has turned to determination and you are willing to jump, crawl, crouch and slither in order to end this terrible nightmare. And just as your body is wriggling itself free from underneath the loveseat, you remember that the clicker in question ran out of batteries last night so of course it is sitting on the kitchen counter next to your knives and olive oil! My mom told me that batteries stay longer when refrigerated, the refrigerator is in the kitchen, and now the mystery is solved. Watching Parks and Rec has never felt so rewarding.
The final thing that a "recent" graduate, and I use the term recent very lightly, will set out on a quest to find is him or herself. Many of us have packed our bags, boarded planes and set out in search of something that is not tangible, but rather, something we think we can find by escaping our hometowns and beginning anew. The funny thing is that even if you venture as far as teaching English in South Korea, your past, your roots and most of the time even a few familiar faces follow.
I have come to terms with a very harsh reality recently. That reality being the fact that I am not lost. I'm just not. I came to New York to better myself, to experience new things and to meet people that are not familiar with the Publix on Wellington Trace, however I also figured that in doing so I would "find myself." And now I realize that it is hard to find something that is not technically lost. This city has evoked growth, no doubt, it has taught me and humbled me like I never thought possible, but enabling me to find myself, it has not. And I think the big secret here, the one that has soothed me many sleepless nights is that I was never missing. You are who you are, and no amount of googling, wriggling or contemplating is going to change that completely. So, I have decided to stop finding myself. I am not missing or lost. I do believe that the best of myself is sometimes hiding though, so remind me to look next to the refrigerator when I get home.
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