Weekly Whack: Complete One-Eighty
Complete One-Eighty
September 1, 1997

Well I'm here. I once again packed up all my stuff and left there, and moved all of it here. The summer is nearing an end, a new school year is upon us, so thus I am forced to completely change my life around. I go from living at home to living at school. I go from working everyday cutting cold cuts and spooning salads, to going to class everyday, taking exams and writing papers. It's a complete one-eighty. It's like I'm living two complete and separate lives. There's the life I live at home during most of the summer and winter months, and then the life I live at school during most of the spring and autumn months. Each life is completely different, the only similarity between the two is that I am part of both. Each life has its own set of friends and acquaintances, its own set of rules and regulations, and its own set of expectations and limitations. Multiple times throughout the year I get bounced back and forth between these two completely different lives, and the only transition period I get is a hectic, stress- filled day of packing. How the hell do I pull this off? It's like right now as I'm writing this at my desk in my dorm room it just feels so natural, like I never left school. Why? It shouldn't. I did leave school. I was gone for over three months, living a life completely parallel to my school life. So when I get back to school it should feel odd, weird, different, new... anything. But it doesn't. It feels just like I never left, that was always here, and those three months in the summer never happened. And the same thing is going happen at the end of the semester, but in reverse. I'll go back home, and back to work, and it will be like I never left. And the whole semester of college that I just completed will be nothing but a distant memory; until of course I go back to school and the whole cycle will continue again.

I guess I can't really consider it that I'm living two different lives, I think that it's more like I'm two completely different people. There's the Doug that goes to school, and the Doug that lives at home and works at ShopRite. They're two completely different people. I have like two personalities. Actually, now that I think about it, I probably have more than two personalities. Schizophrenic? I'm bleeding Quadrophenic. It's true. I'm like that Dr. Jimmy guy in The Who's Quadrophenia. I know that's a reference that very few people got, but it's the only way I can explain it. It's like there are four personalities living inside of me. The first two we already discussed (the ambitious college student, and the humble deli-worker), so that leaves two more. Well the third is one that I call Feff. Feff is everything that you see here on this web page, and basically everything that escapes my head and I put down in writing. It's definitely a whole different personality because I write a whole lot differently than I talk and act when I'm in social situations. It's true, people who know me solely by what they read on Feff World would most likely be disappointed if they met me in person. And likewise, people who know me solely by their encounters with me in person would be somewhat surprised if they started reading Feff World. When I write, it's a whole other person taking over. Ok, so we covered three personalities, that brings us to number four. Personality number four is sort of that dark, hidden side of me that only I know. We all have this side. It's like a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde type thing (or Dr. Doug and Mr. Feff in my case). It's just that we all have to keep that Mr. Hyde hidden deep inside of us. We can't let that Mr. Hyde out in public, or they may lock us up in a jail or mental institution. We're not all perfect, we all have that dark side. But what makes a difference between a Jeffery Dahmer and a Sunday school teacher is how we deal with this side.

Ok, so I'm living four different lives, now what? How long must this go on? It can't be healthy to have four personalities playing tug-o-war in my mind. One has got to eventually win... right? It's like Can you see the real me? Which personality is the real me? Probably the only correct answer is the real me is a mixture of all four. Not really a mixture, but a balance. You're born with a fairly clean slate, and as you grow up you develop the type of person you are. However, I developed four different people, and now I face another growing period ahead of me. I must now pick and choose between different facets of my four personalities, so when I'm finally unleashed into the Real World, the Real Me will be there.

You may be wondering what facets of my hidden, fourth personality will survive my quest to find myself. Well it's tough for me to speculate now, but it will probably be my sick sense of humor. I'm talking about the side that started making jokes about Princess Diana dying before she was even officially declared dead. No, that side of me probably won't be going anywhere anytime soon. It'll probably get me in trouble with some people, or even black-listed from certain circles of the entertainment industry, but I doubt I'll ever be able to contain it completely. Nor would I really want to contain it completely. But anyhoo, talking about Princess Diana dying, someone please tell me why I should really care. Sure it is terrible when another human is cut off in the prime of his or her life in a terrible car accident, but it happens multiple times an hour. I can't grieve for all of them. So what makes Princess Di any different? Is it just because she married into a royal family, and lived a life of privilege and exclusion, constantly in the public eye? Besides that she is no different than any one of us. There were people on the news actually comparing the death of Princess Di to the death of John Kennedy. Now that's just complete and utter bullshit. First of all Kennedy was assassinated. He didn't die in some freak accident. Someone wanted to kill him, and they did it. And second of all, Kennedy was the freaking leader of the free world. He had power. Princess Di had no real power. She was just a figure-head. So I'm not about to grieve because England lost another one of its symbols. I only have one thing to say about the whole Princess Di thing, and then I'm going to put an end to it, and this Whack: she was damn lucky she wasn't in New Jersey, or her car insurance would go through the roof.