So I’ve had a lot of free time on my hands lately. Except I really haven’t but in between doing French homework and reading for Law of Mass Communication, I’ve started watching the show Skins again.
For those of you who don’t know, Skins is a British show about teenagers in Bristol, England who basically spend each episode snorting, smoking, popping and fucking anything they can get their hands on. It’s a pretty great show and unique in that it actually uses really young writers rather than a bunch of 30 somethings who have to work at figuring out what exactly kids these days actually say and do. Sometimes it can be a little ridiculous in that it sometimes come off as a slight distortion of reality-an almost fantasy parallel universe where everything is almost the same but not quite; people light up joints in classrooms and parents are (with the exception of a few characters’ storylines) out of the picture, ala Charlie Brown.
Anyways. The point is that watching the wreckless abandon with which the characters of Skins lead their lives for the past few days has reminded me a little too much about my own tendencies. No, I’ve never done mdma (which the characters in the show name drop like its Lady Gaga) or set my locker at school on fire. I’ve never driven a car into a harbor or stolen a boat in a random town. I’ve never even been to a party that could be classified as a “rager.” But I do have my own wreckless tendencies. Not so much in what I actually do (because I’m tend to live life on the straight and narrow-I’ll take a brownie and tea on a Saturday night thanks, sans the weed) But in what I would do if I let myself. I caught myself thinking yesterday that if I had friends like those characters in high school, I would be just like them. If the opportunities would’ve presented themselves, I would’ve done it. The draw wouldn’t have been the drugs or the booze but the sheer temptation to just not care.
I’ve been catching myself thinking this a lot lately. That I just don’t care. Despite only being sophomores in college, I can’t go a day without hearing talk about grad school and future careers come from my friends and roommates. Graduating school with great grades and an unblemished record in order to graduate in a couple years and jump right back into school. Getting into a “good” grad school. Taking the LSAT. Having a career. And after all this, I realized that I just don’t care.
That’s actually a lie. Because I do care. I obviously care enough to have gotten mostly straight A’s since beginning college. But I don’t care about college itself. I hate school. I’m good at it but I’ve always hated it . I don’t care about grad school or starting a career the second I take off my cap and gown. I’ve been to school for 14 years in a row now, I think I’ll need a break after a couple more.
Which is why I plan on not caring about anything when I graduate. Is that an oxymoron, to plan to not care? Fuck it. The point is, when I graduate I’m giving into my tendencies. I’m not going to go wild and crazy. But I do plan on leaving and I don’t plan on knowing when I’m coming back. I’m saying fuck grad school. Fuck a career. I’m going to do the stereotypical thing-take off to Europe and Asia. Travel. Experience the world. I’m going to let myself do what I’ve always wanted to. So what if its stereotypical? I don’t care.
our existence has serious side effects 