The Ten Most Memorable Events of My Twenties

8. The Summer Before Law School
June-August 1996
Age: 22

This was the best summer of my life. I’d been accepted into UVa Law in the spring, so now I could relax; after so much drifting, a secure future finally lay ahead of me. Even better, I didn’t actually have to do any work yet.

I’d spent the year after college working a couple of different jobs at UVa. Since February, I’d been a full-time staff member at the UVa music library, a wonderful job because 1) the music department had been my second home as an undergrad, 2) I didn’t have to work too hard, 3) I liked my boss, and 4) I got to interact with students, many of whom I already knew.

All year long I’d lived in a dimly-lit basement apartment in Charlottesville, about a mile away from UVa and far from my friends. I liked having my own space, but I felt isolated. In May, though, I learned that a friend’s housemate was looking to sublet her bedroom out for the summer. I jumped at the opportunity — the house was only a short walk from the music building, the bedroom was bright and sunny, and I’d be living with people I liked. I gave up my month-to-month lease on my basement apartment and moved into the house at the end of June.

So I had an enjoyable job for the summer and I could walk to work. But that wasn’t the best part.

Summer in Charlottesville can be oppressively hot and humid, but it’s also empty and quiet, and you wind up bonding with your few friends who are still around. Three of mine — members of my old a cappella group — were in town for the summer, and the four of us formed a little gang; we hung out almost every night, or at least it seemed that way. Sometimes, toward the end of the day, one or another of them would come into the music library and listen to something or play a keyboard while wearing headphones, so I didn’t even feel like I was at work. Then, after the library closed at five or six, we’d walk up to the Lawn and throw a frisbee around. (I could barely throw a frisbee at the start of the summer, but I was very competent by the end.) At night, we’d grab some dinner, see a movie, or drink and watch a video.

That was the summer of the Atlanta Olympics: Kerri Strug’s moment of fame (which we missed because we’d gone out to see “A Time to Kill,” only to return to a house of yelling and cheering women who lectured us for missing such an exciting event), and the Olympic Park bombing. It was the summer of the TWA explosion, Bill Clinton’s re-election campaign, “Independence Day,” and the launching of MSNBC. It was the summer I discovered the “The X-Files.” (I was instantly hooked.)

When I think about it, “the best summer of my life” lasted less than two months. I probably saw my friends less often than I recall, and I’m sure many boring days have been wiped from my memory. But what stands out from that summer are close friendship, fun, and the certainty of finally knowing where my life was headed, or so I thought. I’d never had a summer quite like that before, and I’ve never had one since. It was the last carefree summer I ever had.

The Ten Most Memorable Events of My Twenties

9. I Write a Screenplay
April-June 2002
Age: 28

In late February/early March 2002, shortly after I began my blog hiatus, I suddenly got my ass in gear. Everything came into focus. I finally knew what I wanted to do: write a movie. So I signed up for a 10-week screenwriting class at the Gotham Writers’ Workshop. I already knew what my script was going to be about — it was a story I’d wanted to tell, and had tried putting into various formats, for almost 10 years.

I was determined to write this thing, and I was determined to finish it by the end of the course. I knew that if I didn’t, I might never finish it at all. So over the next two and a half months, I promised myself I’d write at least two pages of my script per day. It was a number small enough to be nonthreatening, and in fact I often found myself writing more than that self-imposed minimum. But it was that small number that got me to the keyboard every day.

The week after I turned in my first 20 pages, my teacher returned it to me with comments scrawled on the back. They began: “This is terrific. Really terrific.” I was so excited.

On the night of the last class, I came in and told my teacher that I’d finished my first draft. She gaped at me and offered her congratulations. She’d never had a student actually finish a first draft during the 10-week course before. I was the first.

I eventually wrote a second draft of my script, and this fall I entered it in a gay screenplay contest. I didn’t win; I wasn’t even one of the finalists. My script needs work, but I’m not sure how motivated I am to improve it. I’ve become interested in other stuff lately. We’ll see.

At any rate, it’s the first extended creative writing project I’ve ever completed. I’m proud of myself for that. And I did it in my twenties.

I was lying awake in bed last night, trying to fall asleep, when I realized that today I begin the final 10 days of my twenties. And I came up with an idea.

Over the next 10 days, I’m going to present the Ten Most Memorable Events of My Twenties.

I’d been trying to find some way to quantify this past decade, to look back on it, to take stock of it — some way to metaphorically pinch myself and say, “Yes, it actually happened. I really did stuff. It wasn’t all a big waste of time.”

The events will be a mix of milestones, personal accomplishments, happy moments, perhaps a sad moment or two, but they’re all going to be things that, for me, epitomized some part of my twenties. I’ve come up with a bunch of things, and I’m going to try to move from least to most important. Taken together, I hope they’ll paint a broad portrait of the decade of my life that’s ending.

And now I begin.

The Ten Most Memorable Events of My Twenties

10. The Virginia Glee Club Tour of the Northeast
March 10-19, 1994
Age: 20

In the fall of my third year of college at the University of Virginia, I finally joined the Virginia Glee Club. I’d seen the group’s Christmas Concert the previous winter, and I knew right away that I wanted to be a part of them. But when I came back from winter break, I didn’t audition because I thought I’d be too busy with my classwork. Big mistake. I learned my lesson, though, and the following fall, I finally tried out.

Being in the 50-man Glee Club was a life-changing experience for me; it was the first time I’d ever felt like one of the guys. I’d never rushed any fraternities at UVa, but the all-male Glee Club had a house, threw parties, went on “rolls” (road trips), and sang amazing music to boot. I truly felt like I belonged there.

During my first year in the group, we went on a spring break tour of the Northeast. It was my first extended tour with the Glee Club. We left Charlottesville the Thursday night before break and came back the following Saturday night. First we went to Knoxville, Tennessee (uh, technically not in the Northeast), to sing at the American Choral Directors’ Association’s annual convention. From there we went up to South Hadley, Massachusetts to sing with Mount Holyoke, and then on to Stamford, Hartford, Boston, Torrington, New York, Philadelphia, and Washington. We travelled everywhere on a chartered bus; it was owned by Luxury United Vacations, so we called it the Luv Bus.

It was only a 10-day tour, but it felt like a month. We spent nearly every waking hour together; we spent endless hours on the bus, playing spades, getting drunk, sleeping, watching movies, causing mayhem. We sang beautiful concerts in some acoustically sublime venues. We made fun of Mt. Holyoke’s choral conductor, who looked like Ned Flanders. We streaked Harvard Yard in the snow.

When we finally returned to Charlottesville the following Saturday night, I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. It felt like ages since I’d had a care in the world. Because for that week and a half, real life had ceased to exist. These men had become my life.

More importantly, they had become my brothers.