God Bless America. Especially the middle of it. Just be thankful that you’re not there. And if you are, try to get out.
I say this not to disparage the folks who keep this country going. Life ain’t easy out there. Not for the Wal-Mart or factory workers, and not for the people with money either. I mean, I remember all the rich kids I knew growing up having severe, grown-ass-people problems by the time they were like 12. You know, the usual: anorexia, alcoholism, body dysmorphic disorder. Teenage sluttery. No self esteem. Unfortunately, the list goes on and on. But aside from the drugs, soap opera addictions and small-town mentality, the middle of America is allegedly a wonderful place to raise children. Allegedly.
At this point, I have to question that concept. Its what every person in middle America says in an effort to defend themselves/their parents/their friends: “but it’s a great place to raise kids”. No, actually, its not. I’ve found that people who were born in middle America stay in middle America. And that’s where the trouble begins. When I go back to my own enclave of middle American hell, I’m greeted by all the high-school era cool kids, who are now relegated to working at the local call center, and picking their kids up from day care on the way home. The people who went away to college also like to come back, to move in down the street from their parents, build their McMansions with their unfaithful spouses, and make the ‘other people’ in town feel bad. Its rather lovely.
And the ‘other people’? Keep them in your prayers. By the time they’re like 28, their measure of excitement is so tainted that the sickest things make them euphoric. Case in point: a friend, who also hails from middle America, was on her friend from high school’s facebook page. The friend’s name is Cerenity, but that’s deserves another post altogether, so I’ll pretend that her parents didn’t name her that. Anyway. Her facebook status read: “Cerenity is happy that she was able to buy a pair of $36 capris for 99 cents at Fashion Bug. So excited!”. Umm, what?
a) Fashion bug still exists?
b) You shop there?
c) You are so excited that you got capris (in the middle of winter, nonetheless) for 99 cents that you updated your facebook status?
Unprofessional.
I say this not to disparage the folks who keep this country going. Life ain’t easy out there. Not for the Wal-Mart or factory workers, and not for the people with money either. I mean, I remember all the rich kids I knew growing up having severe, grown-ass-people problems by the time they were like 12. You know, the usual: anorexia, alcoholism, body dysmorphic disorder. Teenage sluttery. No self esteem. Unfortunately, the list goes on and on. But aside from the drugs, soap opera addictions and small-town mentality, the middle of America is allegedly a wonderful place to raise children. Allegedly.
At this point, I have to question that concept. Its what every person in middle America says in an effort to defend themselves/their parents/their friends: “but it’s a great place to raise kids”. No, actually, its not. I’ve found that people who were born in middle America stay in middle America. And that’s where the trouble begins. When I go back to my own enclave of middle American hell, I’m greeted by all the high-school era cool kids, who are now relegated to working at the local call center, and picking their kids up from day care on the way home. The people who went away to college also like to come back, to move in down the street from their parents, build their McMansions with their unfaithful spouses, and make the ‘other people’ in town feel bad. Its rather lovely.
And the ‘other people’? Keep them in your prayers. By the time they’re like 28, their measure of excitement is so tainted that the sickest things make them euphoric. Case in point: a friend, who also hails from middle America, was on her friend from high school’s facebook page. The friend’s name is Cerenity, but that’s deserves another post altogether, so I’ll pretend that her parents didn’t name her that. Anyway. Her facebook status read: “Cerenity is happy that she was able to buy a pair of $36 capris for 99 cents at Fashion Bug. So excited!”. Umm, what?
a) Fashion bug still exists?
b) You shop there?
c) You are so excited that you got capris (in the middle of winter, nonetheless) for 99 cents that you updated your facebook status?
Unprofessional.
2 comments:
Hilarious! Didn't know you had a site :-) Hope all is well! Leah W.
HAHAHAHAHAHA.. even *I* agree with you, with my personal style akin to water... that fashion bug is a place where NO ONE should enter.. yowzah
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