Tuesday, March 30, 1982
Mr. Gray ended last period History by ranting on about his independence: “I’m happy with my social life, my freedom; I don’t need a mortgage, 2.5 kids, a secure relationship and all that crap, meaningless rings and vows to some nonexistent being.”
It all sounded quite excellent and I looked at Claire and wondered how her materialist mind was taking it: with scorn no doubt. Mr. G. sounded youthfully idealistic as he regaled us with stories about his solo hitch-hiking trips to America and Canada. He enjoyed the latter but hated America's frightening aggression and guns and money centeredness.
Here's a sort of unspoken plan of action for the next few years: Uni., then maybe VSO for a couple of years and then . . . well, maybe an interesting job such as fireman which will allow me to amass enough cash to just go. . . .
There is a party at Harvey’s tonight but I didn’t bother going. I can just predict the grim noise, the crashing lights, the stale beer and sweat smell, the alien confident people chatting in gloomy groups, me feeling out of it.
So I came to bed early.