Tribute to a Classic
I'm not gonna front and claim that I wrote this. It was written by a friend of mine, Karoleen at UCSB. I'm not even sure if I have the liberty to call her a friend. But she is someone I truly admire. I've read it a million times because it is a classic, your classic, something that lasts forever.
... a thought... (don't mind the anger, although it'd be a good thing to pretend it's there)...
There’s nothing like playing your guitar in the rain, or drawing a picture on the beach when you realize you don’t have a camera. I mean besides, it’s not always gonna rain, and you’re not always gonna have a camera (or even, live by the beach). This made me think of what kind of “social” life I’ve been keeping up with so far while in college when I’m not studying. Fuck that.
Meeting up with old friends and catching up with college life made me think: “what is my social life?” They’re out getting wasted because it’s their “idea of a good time,” their “sense of relief from school”. I have nothing against drinking; over a conversation, a couple shots, that’s cool -- but I feel the strong-willed people I thought I knew are at it just to say they do it in college. For pride. For recognition. For the satisfaction of knowing how many shots they can take before gagging compared to how many shots another high school friend can take from their little college world on the other side of the planet. They push the boundaries. Okay, I see. But why again?
When someone starts telling me they drink because it’s fun, and they can’t tell me how it’s fun, that doesn’t quite convince me. The idea that, “oh, you can’t say anything until you’ve been drunk” pisses me off like Chopsticks on the piano (oh, unless you’re Liberaci, please spare me that piece you consider entertainment). Actually buddy, just because I haven’t gone to the point of “what the fuck am I doing here?” doesn’t quite mean I’m completely braindead of the effects of drinking. And when you start asking me, “why the hell do you do the things YOU do?!?!” (i.e. art, piano, guitar) when I ask you, “why do you drink?” and I say it’s because it’s for the development of talents, intellect, and keeping in touch with the things that make me ‘me’… you better sure as hell not fucking tell me drinking is the same damn thing. That’s when I say, “you’re a fucking moron, and tolerance for alcohol doesn’t quite cut it as a talent.” That analogy just doesn’t fit. I’d like to sock you now.
So maybe my not drinking makes me a nerd, but I suppose then you made a half-ass effort to get to know me. I see you and your crooked gait and your lopsided grins, and no, that does not make you “cool”. It does not make you better. It does not make you bigger in my book. You’re actually a piece of pathetic putty that I can squash between my fingertips and use as a kneaded eraser while I draw away with what I think is my idea of a good time.
Don’t fucking tell me what “fun” is. Personally, I don’t find waking up with a headache, and not remembering how the hell I got back into my bed (or another’s) as something “fun.” So when you finally can give me a good reason as to how drinking so freely on a Friday night can be good for me (other than “it makes me feel happy, yay!” or “everyone does it, and they’re ok right?” or “it develops tolerance like developing a talent”) then maybe, just maybe, I’d listen. But your side of the story is just so fucking unconvincing, it makes me want to hurl, and I don’t even need to drink to do so.
“Karoleen, you need to get out more.” I laugh at the thought. Going out does not have to include mindless drinking, not for me. If it does for you, well, some of us are that unfortunate, I’m sorry. Go ahead, be that typical college student, make ‘em proud. I’m quite sure they will be. Oh don’t worry… I’ll come along, and figure out how much more of a pathetic bastard you can be (you’d think there’d be a limit... but no). As for me, I’ll be sitting on the vomit-decorated flower patterned couch, shaking my head in your direction, and if I’m lucky, I may be with someone more intellectually capable of holding a decent conversation – yet unfortunately, I highly doubt that. You encouraging me to drink is like walking into my house and telling me my framed picture of a rose has got to be replaced with a picture of an elephant or your face or some shit like that. Hey, well, fuck you.
We already are considered to spend a third of our lives asleep. I’d rather not spend a fraction more unconscious and confused only to wake up and realize none of the problems I thought I solved were solved at all -- just avoided. I wonder if you’ve realized problems are heavier slaps in the face when you’re hung over. But that’s just me, so don’t bitch about how I spend my time. I’ve seen… I’m not missing out on anything, but thanks for the invitation asshole. So fuck you AND fuck your little shot glass which I’m sure you label with your pretty little name. There’s so much more to do in a weekend than drink, and personally, I’d like to remember the people I meet, and make a good first impression – until the day that’s possible in Santa Barbara on a large scale, I guess I’ll just sit back and keep up with my idea of a good time. Till then, God help you, because I know I won’t.
... a thought... (don't mind the anger, although it'd be a good thing to pretend it's there)...
There’s nothing like playing your guitar in the rain, or drawing a picture on the beach when you realize you don’t have a camera. I mean besides, it’s not always gonna rain, and you’re not always gonna have a camera (or even, live by the beach). This made me think of what kind of “social” life I’ve been keeping up with so far while in college when I’m not studying. Fuck that.
Meeting up with old friends and catching up with college life made me think: “what is my social life?” They’re out getting wasted because it’s their “idea of a good time,” their “sense of relief from school”. I have nothing against drinking; over a conversation, a couple shots, that’s cool -- but I feel the strong-willed people I thought I knew are at it just to say they do it in college. For pride. For recognition. For the satisfaction of knowing how many shots they can take before gagging compared to how many shots another high school friend can take from their little college world on the other side of the planet. They push the boundaries. Okay, I see. But why again?
When someone starts telling me they drink because it’s fun, and they can’t tell me how it’s fun, that doesn’t quite convince me. The idea that, “oh, you can’t say anything until you’ve been drunk” pisses me off like Chopsticks on the piano (oh, unless you’re Liberaci, please spare me that piece you consider entertainment). Actually buddy, just because I haven’t gone to the point of “what the fuck am I doing here?” doesn’t quite mean I’m completely braindead of the effects of drinking. And when you start asking me, “why the hell do you do the things YOU do?!?!” (i.e. art, piano, guitar) when I ask you, “why do you drink?” and I say it’s because it’s for the development of talents, intellect, and keeping in touch with the things that make me ‘me’… you better sure as hell not fucking tell me drinking is the same damn thing. That’s when I say, “you’re a fucking moron, and tolerance for alcohol doesn’t quite cut it as a talent.” That analogy just doesn’t fit. I’d like to sock you now.
So maybe my not drinking makes me a nerd, but I suppose then you made a half-ass effort to get to know me. I see you and your crooked gait and your lopsided grins, and no, that does not make you “cool”. It does not make you better. It does not make you bigger in my book. You’re actually a piece of pathetic putty that I can squash between my fingertips and use as a kneaded eraser while I draw away with what I think is my idea of a good time.
Don’t fucking tell me what “fun” is. Personally, I don’t find waking up with a headache, and not remembering how the hell I got back into my bed (or another’s) as something “fun.” So when you finally can give me a good reason as to how drinking so freely on a Friday night can be good for me (other than “it makes me feel happy, yay!” or “everyone does it, and they’re ok right?” or “it develops tolerance like developing a talent”) then maybe, just maybe, I’d listen. But your side of the story is just so fucking unconvincing, it makes me want to hurl, and I don’t even need to drink to do so.
“Karoleen, you need to get out more.” I laugh at the thought. Going out does not have to include mindless drinking, not for me. If it does for you, well, some of us are that unfortunate, I’m sorry. Go ahead, be that typical college student, make ‘em proud. I’m quite sure they will be. Oh don’t worry… I’ll come along, and figure out how much more of a pathetic bastard you can be (you’d think there’d be a limit... but no). As for me, I’ll be sitting on the vomit-decorated flower patterned couch, shaking my head in your direction, and if I’m lucky, I may be with someone more intellectually capable of holding a decent conversation – yet unfortunately, I highly doubt that. You encouraging me to drink is like walking into my house and telling me my framed picture of a rose has got to be replaced with a picture of an elephant or your face or some shit like that. Hey, well, fuck you.
We already are considered to spend a third of our lives asleep. I’d rather not spend a fraction more unconscious and confused only to wake up and realize none of the problems I thought I solved were solved at all -- just avoided. I wonder if you’ve realized problems are heavier slaps in the face when you’re hung over. But that’s just me, so don’t bitch about how I spend my time. I’ve seen… I’m not missing out on anything, but thanks for the invitation asshole. So fuck you AND fuck your little shot glass which I’m sure you label with your pretty little name. There’s so much more to do in a weekend than drink, and personally, I’d like to remember the people I meet, and make a good first impression – until the day that’s possible in Santa Barbara on a large scale, I guess I’ll just sit back and keep up with my idea of a good time. Till then, God help you, because I know I won’t.
posted by Cas Ruffin | 1:28 AM
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