Even Picard commands it: ENGAGE!Two years ago, when I graduated from Penn State Erie, I felt like I was keeping step with my peers. I was 22 years old. I had just finished my undergrad. Grad school was just on the horizon. The adult world seemed unsettling and monotonous, but at least everyone else seemed to be in the same boat.
Fast forward two years. In that time, I've become disenchanted with grad school, which consumed two years of my life. While I was whiling away the days, weeks, and months in the bowels of libraries and classrooms, everyone else was out finding real jobs with real pay and real locks on the bathroom doors. But what's worse is that two of my friends got married and two more got engaged. This is what happens when people become adults. Adult-type things start to happen. The worst example of this occurred last weekend when my younger brother got engaged.
Nothing makes a single, unemployed, former English major who's living in his parents' basement take stock of his life quite like seeing everyone he knows getting married. My younger brother's engagement certainly encourages some people to wonder: What the fuck is wrong with JP? Granted, I know the real reason is that I just haven't found the right woman for me (or at least knocked up one who's desperate enough to take whatever she can get); however, it still seems to reflect poorly on your friendly neighborhood blogger.
I'll give credit where it's due. Most people have been surprisingly understanding. I haven't been given much grief about the whole thing (until my friends found out that it was bothering me, thus causing them to berate me mercilessly as any good friends would). My youngest brother's high school graduation took place this weekend, and I fully expected my relatives to harp on me once they found out about my brother's engagement. After all, I'm a sarcastic asshole with no tact or pity for others, and I know from where those traits come. But no one really gave me any trouble about it. I got a lot more questions about being unemployed, and such conversations don't shine the flattering light in this direction any more than a weight scale does.
It seems like everyone else is growing up to embrace the adult world, and I'm sitting here mentally screaming, "I DON'T WANNA GROW UP!! I'M A TOYS R' US KID!!" Getting engaged is the first step on the road to massive responsibility. Don't you remember that taunt that grade schoolers would shout? "First comes love! Then comes marriage! Then comes [insert poor kid's name here] pushing a baby carriage!" Babies tend to follow shortly after these weddings. I can barely handle my whiny cat let alone a fetal-fresh baby that reeks of sour milk and feces. Though if I were lucky, I'd have a little evil baby that had a blood-lust for felines. Still, I'm barely mature enough to watch Law & Order without snickering when they use the word "duty." I don't think I'm in any position to act as a mature adult figure for my potential offspring. Hell, I'd probably enjoy watching cartoons more than he or she would.
Nobody's saying anything about me not being engaged or having a girlfriend, but it's got to be going through people's minds. I'm sure I'll eventually find something resembling a woman who will want to marry me, and then I'll shit on everyone's expectations by having a five-minute wedding in the courthouse with the justice of the peace followed by a reception at the closest Denny's.
I imagine you get carte blanche to do whatever the fuck you want when you don't care about getting married in a church. Let's see if I can find a woman with the same demented sense of humor that I have who will be willing to turn a sacred ceremony into a complete and total farce.
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Your friendly neighborhood blogger: Currently waiting for his real life to begin.
Fast forward two years. In that time, I've become disenchanted with grad school, which consumed two years of my life. While I was whiling away the days, weeks, and months in the bowels of libraries and classrooms, everyone else was out finding real jobs with real pay and real locks on the bathroom doors. But what's worse is that two of my friends got married and two more got engaged. This is what happens when people become adults. Adult-type things start to happen. The worst example of this occurred last weekend when my younger brother got engaged.
Nothing makes a single, unemployed, former English major who's living in his parents' basement take stock of his life quite like seeing everyone he knows getting married. My younger brother's engagement certainly encourages some people to wonder: What the fuck is wrong with JP? Granted, I know the real reason is that I just haven't found the right woman for me (or at least knocked up one who's desperate enough to take whatever she can get); however, it still seems to reflect poorly on your friendly neighborhood blogger.
I'll give credit where it's due. Most people have been surprisingly understanding. I haven't been given much grief about the whole thing (until my friends found out that it was bothering me, thus causing them to berate me mercilessly as any good friends would). My youngest brother's high school graduation took place this weekend, and I fully expected my relatives to harp on me once they found out about my brother's engagement. After all, I'm a sarcastic asshole with no tact or pity for others, and I know from where those traits come. But no one really gave me any trouble about it. I got a lot more questions about being unemployed, and such conversations don't shine the flattering light in this direction any more than a weight scale does.
It seems like everyone else is growing up to embrace the adult world, and I'm sitting here mentally screaming, "I DON'T WANNA GROW UP!! I'M A TOYS R' US KID!!" Getting engaged is the first step on the road to massive responsibility. Don't you remember that taunt that grade schoolers would shout? "First comes love! Then comes marriage! Then comes [insert poor kid's name here] pushing a baby carriage!" Babies tend to follow shortly after these weddings. I can barely handle my whiny cat let alone a fetal-fresh baby that reeks of sour milk and feces. Though if I were lucky, I'd have a little evil baby that had a blood-lust for felines. Still, I'm barely mature enough to watch Law & Order without snickering when they use the word "duty." I don't think I'm in any position to act as a mature adult figure for my potential offspring. Hell, I'd probably enjoy watching cartoons more than he or she would.
Nobody's saying anything about me not being engaged or having a girlfriend, but it's got to be going through people's minds. I'm sure I'll eventually find something resembling a woman who will want to marry me, and then I'll shit on everyone's expectations by having a five-minute wedding in the courthouse with the justice of the peace followed by a reception at the closest Denny's.
I imagine you get carte blanche to do whatever the fuck you want when you don't care about getting married in a church. Let's see if I can find a woman with the same demented sense of humor that I have who will be willing to turn a sacred ceremony into a complete and total farce.
-----------------------------
Your friendly neighborhood blogger: Currently waiting for his real life to begin.
8 comments:
Nobody seems to be commenting on your posts anymore.
Maybe because they are with their spouses or working their real jobs?
Now that you mention it, why the hell are you not EMPLOYED and ENGAGED?
More ammunition for future reference!
I never said I wasn't employed or engaged.
Actually, I'd be more shocked if everyone was harping on you to get married right now. You're a fucking pup.
But I remember this stage you're describing (as I am far more ancient than you, young grasshopper). Guess what? Those people are now on their second or third divorce proceeding and their shuffling their disgruntled and scarred kids back and forth on the weekends. Oh, and that mortgage they just took out? It just went through the roof because they, you know, rushed things and took out an adjustable rate mortgage because they were too young and too insolvent to get a traditional, stable loan.
Count yourself lucky. These same people will also have wa-ay more baggage than you will at your high school reunion. :D
Agree with contemplator.
Yes, I suppose I may be laying the self-pity on a little thick.
The beauty of a blog though - I can bitch about my personal problems and people still read! :)
I found some work for you. Come over to my blog and bitchslap Erica, who has decided to defend l'il mama in language l'il mama would appreciate. I'll pay you 50 cents.
I'll now give you $.75 just for that awesome gorilladong reference. :D I was laughing about that one this morning when I saw it.
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