Laugh hard, it's a long way to the bank...
The Trinity one year alumni breakfast, in a nutshell:
"Oh my god, I'm still such a JAP!"
"Oh my god, meeee too!"
"Oh my god!"
"Oh my god!"
"Let's take pictures!"
I don't know why I went; it put me in such a terrible mood. I shouldn't have expected anyone to be different, or the school to have changed. 95% of the people in my graduating class are still the spoiled, self-indulgent rich kids they were a few months ago, and upon stepping into the school I remembered immediately why I didn't try to stay in contact with any of them.
I guess I hoped that I'd find people were miserable outside the insultated Manhattan private school bubble, that I'd feel somehow vindicated that I go a school now where people buck tradition, think in different ways, and for the most part aren't judgmental and stuck-up, whereas the people I left behind all seem to go to Rich Overachievers University. I guess I hoped to prove that I was not only different (which was obvious) but in fact better, that I'm cool in a way that money can't buy, and perhaps over the past six months that had somehow become evident. I didn't exactly get what I hoped for--with a few exceptions, the people who said hello to me were those I was never that close to in the first place, and those who at one point were my friends, gave me little more than cold stares and curtly acknowledged my presence. By the end of high school I had grown sick of their superficial pleasantries, but now they don't even do me that favor.
It's a childish, bitter response to an institution and an entire social class that has left a lasting and painful impression I clearly haven't gotten over yet. Eventually I'm sure I won't seek validation from them or anyone, and in a way I guess this little reunion helped me see that to expect even a little change may be too much. After all, the girls who act and dress like society wives now are going to actually going to be society wives in a few years, and the guys who look like investment bankers are well on their way to that too. Chances are they may very well never care about the exploits of the Euro-punk gay guy, even one who for a while had a respectable amount of social sway at our stupid school. Oh well...
In other news, I still haven't finished my Taoist Art paper that's due today, and even when I do, for a bunch of stupid reasons I'll have to jump through hoops just email it to my professor. Out Hud is playing tonight, and I doubt I'll go since I have little money and less energy. I also got an email from the New Media professor saying that if I want her to sponsor my project I need to write up a proposal, and that it may already be too late for her to put me in contact with any artists there, most of whom won't be around then anyway.
Isn't life a peach?
"Oh my god, I'm still such a JAP!"
"Oh my god, meeee too!"
"Oh my god!"
"Oh my god!"
"Let's take pictures!"
I don't know why I went; it put me in such a terrible mood. I shouldn't have expected anyone to be different, or the school to have changed. 95% of the people in my graduating class are still the spoiled, self-indulgent rich kids they were a few months ago, and upon stepping into the school I remembered immediately why I didn't try to stay in contact with any of them.
I guess I hoped that I'd find people were miserable outside the insultated Manhattan private school bubble, that I'd feel somehow vindicated that I go a school now where people buck tradition, think in different ways, and for the most part aren't judgmental and stuck-up, whereas the people I left behind all seem to go to Rich Overachievers University. I guess I hoped to prove that I was not only different (which was obvious) but in fact better, that I'm cool in a way that money can't buy, and perhaps over the past six months that had somehow become evident. I didn't exactly get what I hoped for--with a few exceptions, the people who said hello to me were those I was never that close to in the first place, and those who at one point were my friends, gave me little more than cold stares and curtly acknowledged my presence. By the end of high school I had grown sick of their superficial pleasantries, but now they don't even do me that favor.
It's a childish, bitter response to an institution and an entire social class that has left a lasting and painful impression I clearly haven't gotten over yet. Eventually I'm sure I won't seek validation from them or anyone, and in a way I guess this little reunion helped me see that to expect even a little change may be too much. After all, the girls who act and dress like society wives now are going to actually going to be society wives in a few years, and the guys who look like investment bankers are well on their way to that too. Chances are they may very well never care about the exploits of the Euro-punk gay guy, even one who for a while had a respectable amount of social sway at our stupid school. Oh well...
In other news, I still haven't finished my Taoist Art paper that's due today, and even when I do, for a bunch of stupid reasons I'll have to jump through hoops just email it to my professor. Out Hud is playing tonight, and I doubt I'll go since I have little money and less energy. I also got an email from the New Media professor saying that if I want her to sponsor my project I need to write up a proposal, and that it may already be too late for her to put me in contact with any artists there, most of whom won't be around then anyway.
Isn't life a peach?