Tuesday, 4 November 2008

Pulp - Razzmatazz

Paul comes over to my house and we sit in the living room and quickly catch up, summing up our lives over the last few months since we last met: no I still don’t care about work and neither does he, his girlfriend’s pregnancy scare and how she wanted to keep it, yes I’ve been OK healthwise but I still think about it every day, his upcoming trip backpacking in New Zealand, a rapid exchange of news over a ten or so minutes.

Then we go on facebook and look up our old schoolmates, schoolmates that we never liked because we were into Gene and 60ft Dolls and David Bowie too much and they certainly weren’t. All those people, all those lives, where are they now? So we look at the profiles that Paul is linked to and we also look at who has joined a group that’s set up for our secondary school and looking through all those people we check for two things: a) are they married and b) what do they look like now?

And if they’re married we classify them as a bit of loser, if they’re not married we classify them a complete loser. And as we do that it occurs to me that the joke is on me really, how dare I judge those people according to their marital status, at least they have the chance to get married, whilst I have to change my name and keep a hidden facebook profile so that none of these people will ever find me and realise what my life has come to. I know who I’d rather be. And it’s not me.

You know in American movies where the main character always goes back to his hometown during some holiday / tragedy / family emergency / other event, and he sees people he used to go to high school with and they’re still pumping gas at the local station and they’re silly and vulgar and have got married to some girl also from high school and have eight children and drink in a horrible bar every night with people they’ve known for 25 years and our character looks down on them because he’s made a lucky escape and is now a successful advertising executive (whatever that means) in Manhattan and considers himself so lucky because he lives the high life and only has to go back to this town for a couple of days a year? Well I’d rather be the guy pumping gas thank you very much.

So Paul and I think that maybe I should set up a second profile, a profile with the original name that I had in school and I should put some pictures up (nothing that shows me in a great light) and make up some stuff about my life now: I didn’t go to University, I’m engaged to some girl, I have an OK but average job, I’ve made some good friends, nothing much is going on in my life, etc.

In other words make a profile showing me with the life I never had. And then I can link my made-up profile to all my schoolmates and chat to them.

But we don’t do that, we don’t make up a profile of the life I should have had, because if we do I’m scared that I will like it too much, I will want to be this person instead and it will cut me up even more. So we turn facebook off.

16 comments:

dickophile said...

why would you want to be the guy pumping gas? you're a gay icon! snap out of it!!!

p.s. whatever happened to going to sydney? was that just a figment of london preppy's imagination that died when he retired from blogging? or did he go? do you know if there is any way we can contact him?

michael01 said...

Oh, for God's sake, life is mostly (or maybe fifty percent) miserable for everyone. Any grown-up situation is--compared to one's youthful dreams--rather little and sad. It's not being straight or gay or married or never sick that makes a difference--and why envy the anonymous mediocre lives of your ex school chums? Is that really the sacrifice you'd offer up on the alter of your guilt towards mommy? (Of course, I know that you know you're high on 'auto-drama.')One set of limits is as bad as another.
Tomorrow is our election and in California we're voting on whether or not to abolish gay marriage. Imagine. So hopefully the referendum will be defeated, and I will marry my partner of twenty-seven years (I know, it makes me cringe too) in order to qualify for the health insurance from his job becase we have no national health care here. Then you and the bf can come here too, marry, and adopt a child if you like, or even several. After which you'll be totally miserable. Or maybe not. The weather is usually so nice here, more like Greece. Have you ever considered that you might have seasonal affective disorder ('SAD'--there's an acronym for everything)? I certainly find English weather dreary and it depresses me because I'm easily depressed and because I grew up in a sub-tropical climate. I know London Preppy was planning on Australia... You should consider joining him.

Alex said...

Really, though, how are you LP.?

The post seems to move along in the form of an oncoming anxiety attack.. you doing okay?

(and no, I don't give away money)

Stephen said...

How did Paul change his name to Alex in the space of a blog post?

London Preppy said...

dick: I don't know where LP is or what he's up to, but I'll provide a full update if/when he gets in touch

michael: Just a blog innit

alex: I'm OK, thanks

stephen: Oh everyone should change their name frequently. I'm on my 4th one

Tom Cat from Bondi Beach said...

LP I think you are sufferring from " The grass always looks greener on the other side syndrome" . Be assured all those boring str8 school friends who are single wish they were married and those who are married wish they were single. You are just tapping into the gay str8 equivalent of that.

Sorry now spare funds here either but at least here in Sydney the weather is generally great and you will get over the SAD that Michael mentions. So get your hot arse over here now !!

Jeff said...

I just cried for the first time in five years. Obama won. The Union is more perfect.

You don't need to post this comment. I just felt the need to spread my excitement across any and all available places.

Matthew said...

I want to be the gas pumper guy too. Your post reminds me of something David Sedaris wrote: "I'm 38 and still scared of EVERYTHING".

Son said...

Your/this writing style never fails to :

Depress yet inspire me

love it

ethan said...

oh come on now get serious. ok your old schoolmates can have kids and get married the old fashioned way but do you REALLY desire this for your life? from what i saw you're already standing out as someone great both inside and out and don't need to try and mingle with the mediocrity

Superdrewby said...

And here I was thinking that you were indeed in Sydney - well that's what my spies tell me anyway

London Preppy said...

matthew: That's a great line and completely accurate for me of course. Well, 28 and...

son: I like you too

ethan: Nah, not really. Just sumfin to write, innit

super: Who spreads these inaccurate, completely unfounded stories? (ahem)

Patrick said...

Gosh ouch. The guy pumping gas may feel content in his life, but I'd really rather have your option. I may never reach the level of neuroses or self-hating that you do, but I'd still rather not be in the same 'old place day in, day out. Both, I suppose, have their attractive attributes.

pascal said...

sometimes I also think it would be best if I were just the average guy (.. not the one pumping gas), the guy of the statistics with the 6.5 str8 male friends and the 10.3 girlfriends who will get married when turning 36 years feeling he had enough fun being a bachelor.
Anyway...
but most times I enjoy being me and just wanna run over any old schoolmates I see randomly while driving
Don't u?

Todd X. said...

Brilliant.

alana said...

It seems the people who are under 40 and content with their lives are always so dreadfully boring. Who wants to be average?

I am in a long term relationship and we have a child yet everyone still thinks I’m crazy. I revel in it.