Boycotting Facebook Because Everyone’s Being Too Grown Up
What I didn’t realise, upon hitting 25, was that almost immediately the conversations over coffee or dinner tables would change quite significantly. And I’m not talking about intruding family members (in fact they are the opposite) it’s friends and acquaintances who can’t help but casually encourage you to forward-plan over a cup of green tea. It’s like Tourette’s. We just can’t seem to help ourselves. We innocently meet up to talk about the weather, the last book we read, or the colour of our nail varnish and suddenly, quickly, we’re on the topic of nappies and imaginary weddings. It’s the 25-year-old equivalent of when we used to talk about getting a job while at school. We were here, and that stuff was over there. It was something both exciting and rather repugnant at the same time.
I already knew to be prepared for the “slowing down of the metabolism”, or “the hangovers that were only going to get worse, especially on red wine”, or the fact that you can’t really get away with being a silly inept youngster because, “no offence, 25 isn’t that young anymore”. (And yet I still hold my breath every year hoping that it is not the final year getting a stocking from “Santa”).
What they didn’t prepare me enough for, was that almost suddenly starts talking about previously banned words: such as babies and marriage. These two words, once filled with dread, fear and shudders now become actual springboards for light conversation. It’s almost text-book. I can’t tell if anyone wants to talk about that stuff, or we just feel we should, but between the obligatory “how’s work” question in which your friends ask politely but their eyes equally glaze over with minimal interest, it’s the inevitable commentary on how “we’re not far off thirty, you know”.
At 25, we are all speaking hypothetically. At least me and my group of good friends. We’re not really that worried about it all, it just seems like “the thing to do” – to discuss things in minute detail even though what we decide that will probably change a hundred times before they are the real deal.
Here are some of the sound-bites of these ridiculous, hypothetical discussions:
The “dream”: You want to buy your wedding dress of Stone Cold Fox. £8,000 for a flimsy piece of beautiful silk.
The reality: You can’t afford it. You work in the ‘creative industry’. Also: it won’t be in stock from that weird Pinterest link you keep clicking on.
The “dream”: You want to rebel against wearing white because it’s 2015, not 1901.
The reality: That is making shopping for the wedding dress x1000 harder. Well done.
The “dream”: You won’t spend £20,000 on ONE NIGHT. That’s loads of cash. You would rather get married on a beach, on the gap yah you never had.”
The reality: That’s also a deposit on a house that we are constantly told as a generation we will never ever get.
The “dream”: “Yeah I want a baby. I just don’t want it to follow me around, though.”
The reality: It will creep into every tiny bit of your life and you will never ever sleep again.
The “dream”: You get paid loads of money for maternity leave right? So you can buy new maternity clothes?
The reality: HA HA HA HA. Oh we are so screwed.
The “dream”: There’s WIFI at the wedding for the perfect #INSTAWED”
The reality: You put your wedding pics on Facebook and they get two likes.
So in conclusion, as you can see from all of these above quotes – it’s all a big joke still. We don’t have a clue. But with pretty much all things, it’s more fun to talk about things when you’re half making it all up.
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