The Picture of Patrick [Blank]
My brother has taken to calling me Dorian, a practice adopted by the rest of my family. I finally asked him why this was, and he said, "You're Dorian Gray, dude. You're the image of Wilde's imagination." He explained that while examining pictures of me from roughly college forward, he noticed that my appearance has not changed one bit. He's right.
I've looked more or less exactly the same since my last growth spurt, roughly 12 years ago. My weight has fluctuated somewhat, swinging maybe 30 pounds or so. My double-chin never goes away, though, regardless of whether I'm a beefy 210 or a slim 180. The uncontrollable mass of hair on top of my head has stayed more or less the same because, well, I can't control it. If I grow it short, it looks long again within two weeks, and there's no discernible difference between long and really long, either. A couple grey hairs have popped in occasionally over the last year or so, but you'd be hard-pressed to notice them because they are rather easily mistaken for one of my occasional blond streaks. The lines of my face have deepened, but very slightly--certainly not as much as one would expect considering that I enjoy drinking, eat nothing but junk food, and smoke a pack of cigarettes a day. My family used to call me Peter Pan, because I'm the boy who never grew up. But, to my knowledge, Peter Pan wasn't much of a partier. The Dorian Gray label is spooky.
I think the unchanging nature of my appearance does nothing but add to my problems, because I really don't look like a grown up, no matter how hard I try. My brother who's five years younger looks older than I do, for God's sake. As my friends begin to bald and/or grey, I simply do not in the least. It's like I'm frozen in time, and I'm starting to think that it has something to do with my inability to get on with life. If I looked forty, I bet I'd have a sweet job. As it is, I still look like I'm somewhere between 21 and 24, so people are inclined to deal with me as though I am a kid. One interviewer said to me last week, "You're too young to be finished with grad school." Really? Since when 28 is too young to be done with grad school? When do people typically wrap up graduate school--after their 50th birthday?!
There's not much I can really do about it, except (I guess) embrace it, continue to abuse myself with blatant disregard for consequence, and smile politely when fielding inquiries as to what I plan on doing with my life after I finish college.
I've looked more or less exactly the same since my last growth spurt, roughly 12 years ago. My weight has fluctuated somewhat, swinging maybe 30 pounds or so. My double-chin never goes away, though, regardless of whether I'm a beefy 210 or a slim 180. The uncontrollable mass of hair on top of my head has stayed more or less the same because, well, I can't control it. If I grow it short, it looks long again within two weeks, and there's no discernible difference between long and really long, either. A couple grey hairs have popped in occasionally over the last year or so, but you'd be hard-pressed to notice them because they are rather easily mistaken for one of my occasional blond streaks. The lines of my face have deepened, but very slightly--certainly not as much as one would expect considering that I enjoy drinking, eat nothing but junk food, and smoke a pack of cigarettes a day. My family used to call me Peter Pan, because I'm the boy who never grew up. But, to my knowledge, Peter Pan wasn't much of a partier. The Dorian Gray label is spooky.
I think the unchanging nature of my appearance does nothing but add to my problems, because I really don't look like a grown up, no matter how hard I try. My brother who's five years younger looks older than I do, for God's sake. As my friends begin to bald and/or grey, I simply do not in the least. It's like I'm frozen in time, and I'm starting to think that it has something to do with my inability to get on with life. If I looked forty, I bet I'd have a sweet job. As it is, I still look like I'm somewhere between 21 and 24, so people are inclined to deal with me as though I am a kid. One interviewer said to me last week, "You're too young to be finished with grad school." Really? Since when 28 is too young to be done with grad school? When do people typically wrap up graduate school--after their 50th birthday?!
There's not much I can really do about it, except (I guess) embrace it, continue to abuse myself with blatant disregard for consequence, and smile politely when fielding inquiries as to what I plan on doing with my life after I finish college.
posted by Pat at 3:35 PM
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