02 September 2006

Under Wraps

What the hell is going on? Why am I home on a Saturday night at 8? Why hasn’t anyone called, or emailed, or stopped over?

I am starting to fear for my friends. Several of them seem to have gotten old. Not older, like aging, which we all do, but old. “Let’s not go out anymore,” old. “I don’t want to leave the house,” old.


Granted, my friends have never been amazingly extroverted (extraverted for the Jungians out there), but I remember that we used to do stuff. Back when we were dumb (read: high school) we hung out all the time: at the park, in Baker’s Square, at my folks’ place when they were out of town. We hung out, man. After high school, when anyone would come home from college, it was time to have a party. When everyone came home from college, it was a party a weekend. There was always a place to hang out, always someone willing to do something, always something worth doing.


We’re a tight knit group, and I love that. You have to be of a rare breed to enjoy our company. But now, there’s a part of me that regrets that. There’s this little voice, getting louder, that says, “We should know more people! We should be having fun right now! We get one day a week off, and we are sitting here, typing.” While the idea of having a “we” in my head is a little spooky, the fact that he’s correct is downright unpleasant.


I don’t need to go out and drink. I am not a big fan of being drunk. PEANUT GALLERY SHUT UP! Seriously, hangovers are a bitch, and the fun of the night before is never worth it unless you wake up next to an attractive someone with whom you may share your suffering. But we could do something.


I’m not old. And I am afraid that this might just be the middle of my life; Zeepdoggies burn out pretty quickly. So I must live whilst I have the chance. I mean, my sister, Zeepsissy, is at home with a date right now. Never mind that it must be creepy for him; after all, he had to wait until his 45-year old girlfriend’s parents went out of town so he could hang out. Would you even date someone that sad? It’s a good thing she’s easy. Anyhoo, the point is, my sister is getting in on the life action, and she barely has a life.


"Waah waah waah. Then get up and do something, you sad sack of poop!" I agree, except that I don’t lone-wolf it. I go tandem, at least, for any kind of nocturnal encounter. A good squad of four to eight operatives is ideal. But I have no team. No SOG for nighttime ops.


I’m fucking trapped here. I love my place, but I think the walls are closing in just a bit.


I guess I should just surrender to my fate and do some homework.


-Zeepdoggie

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hmm. After reading this plus the voicemail, we are going to start hanging out a lot more. Just sayin'.

Anonymous said...

I'm telling you. MOVE IN WITH US!

It may not be "awesome" but it usually is "entertaining."

Anonymous said...

i lost your phone number

Zeepdoggie & GringO said...

And of course I will just put my phone number on a public website for an anonymous post.
Here's an idea: tell me your name, and I will call you.

Josh Hawkins said...

As with most judgments, this says as much, if not more, about the person making the judgment than those being judged. My personal experience is that those who think everyone around them is "getting old" it's usually a sign that the "young person" has an empty life or more often, an emptiness in an important part of their life. As with most things, the problem can be solved, but usually not by looking out, but by looking in.

Zeepdoggie & GringO said...

And that, folks, is why I don't need therapy. I have Josh.

If you're not shuddering, then you obviously don't know him.