I Hate You and Your Hummer
I'll start with a story: I was in Anthropology the other day with my mom and my sister. I don't dislike the store. It's a very aesthetically pleasing place to be and I like the way it smells and looks. They also have decent sales occaisionally and really cool books and dishes. But it's pretentiousness level is off the charts. Most of the clothes there are prices between 50 and 300 dollars. There's ridiculous pieces of furniture and blankets you'd never want to sleep under and wash because they'd probably fall apart. Anyway, I was in there one day and I picked up this cute little wooden box with a lid that slid off. It was a game I'd never heard of before and I opened the box, finding several colored sticks and a small piece of paper with instructions. In French. Naturally I turned the card over to look at the English instructions.
There were none. None written on the box, none in the other games. There were all in French. And I became pissed off. Because this store was so full of itself and it's cultured appearance that it had the audacity to assume all its patrons could read French. Now I know the store doesn't make the game, but still. They're choosing to sell it and I was pissed.
That's kind of what living in Scottsdale is like. People who think they're cultured enough to speak French and do French things but don't understand a word of the language and just end up looking like asses while doing these supposedly "FRENCH" things.
For example, today I drove past a little restaurant and under the name "The Kitchen" it read "Market | Wine Bar." What the fuck is a wine bar? I'll tell you what it is. It's a chance for Mrs. Fake Boobs and her Husband Mr. Good Golf Swing to take their couple friends Mr. and Mrs. Matching Rolex Watches to a nice fancy lunch and impress them.
That's what all these people are about. They don't care that they're getting into credit card debt or that that they're never going to be able to pay off their house. They just care about making themselves look really cool and really rich. When in reality they aren't. What they are is poor. Poor because they lack a lot of things. They lack money. They probably lack more than a bachelor's degree. They lack morals.
I'll start with the degree thing. Now I know grad school isn't for everyone. I understand if you don't. But I don't want to hear you bitching about how you wanted to not even go to college, but you want the new iPhone, a Prius, a mansion, a pool and all this bullshit. I'll be honest: a master's degree is going to be necessary in the future. Eventually, a BA/BS alone won't be enough. You'll need something else. You'll need a little more. And that's where the master's degree will help. Put you ahead. Give you the house and pool, if you play your cards right. But if you bitch about school, fail, and then move along with your degree in business, you'll more likely than not become that Painfully Average Person (thanks for that one Sydney) and drown in debt and mediocrity. Which will suck but it will be your fault because you wanted larger breasts, a new pool, and a chance to tee off with the boss last Sunday in hopes of getting that promotion he already gave to his son-in-law. Sucks for you.
Secondly, the moral thing. These people lack morals because they're consumed with materialistic desires to please and impress. Know why I think that's immoral? Because you're spend your children's college money on out door furniture. You're spending money you could spend on their future on pricey wine and a 1.5 million dollar house you could never afford and will never pay off. You're declare bankruptcy and the house will go into foreclosure.
I'll tell you another story. My family looked for houses for a really long time. We've living in AZ for four years and JUST bought a house this past December. Yeah. It's been rough. But the houses were just too expensive. We looked at one in Fountain Hills in this really nice neighborhood full of fancy houses and stuff. It was a strange house- empty and abandoned, except for a few tell-tale signs. It was obvious these people lived beyond their means. The house was in foreclosure and they'd made a hasty exit. But they left some things behind.
A boat in the garage for instance.
Two jet skis.
A drawer full of video games and abused DVD's. Nice games and movies. Like season 2 of House. Grand Theft Auto. The Best of Family Guy. Transformers. Like, NICE DVD's. Stuff that's over thirty bucks at Best Buy. All seven Harry Potter books rested in the closet. Next to a Guitar Hero set. There was a drum set in one of the rooms. A pool table downstairs. A nice dog bed outside. Cereal in the pantry. They'd left fast and left behind a lot of things. Nice things. Things they didn't actually own because it was all bought on credit.
It was kind of creepy. But enlightening. These people had just wanted to impress. Impress who? I don't know. The house was custom built, the lighting was the best of the best, the flooring really nice. Everything was top-of-the-line quality.
But none of it was their own.
It was all on credit, which is sad, but it's life. People all over Scottsdale drive cars they can't afford because they need to look like they can. They need to feel better about themselves. I'm so fucking sick of this materialistic bullshit.
I have a laptop. You know why? Because I went to college and I needed one. My dad bought it for me. Not because I whined and begged for it. Because I needed it. I have clothes and a cell phone (sort of) and a dog. We live in a house we could afford to buy. We pay off ALL the credit card charges, not the minimum balance. My step-dad is a good man who went through a lot of hell and schooling to get here today. He's a doctor and I'm not ashamed to admit it. We can afford our lifestyle. But we could have been like anyone else in this town. We could buy cars we can't afford or try to buy a 2 million dollar house or own a boat. But we don't. We don't live beyond our means.
You don't have to have money to do this. That's what makes me mad. Even when my mother was poor, she always paid the bills. Always paid for our healthcare. Always paid the rent. Always made sure we had food to eat and were healthy. Because she understood, even though we had very little, the importance of not falling into debt. We didn't waste money on trivial things and we don't do that now. All these annoying pretentious bitches in Scottsdale need to shove their Coach purses up their asses and start saving money. Because Mrs. Fake Boobs won't be happy when her house goes into foreclosure. Nope, she won't. Not. One. Bit.
There were none. None written on the box, none in the other games. There were all in French. And I became pissed off. Because this store was so full of itself and it's cultured appearance that it had the audacity to assume all its patrons could read French. Now I know the store doesn't make the game, but still. They're choosing to sell it and I was pissed.
That's kind of what living in Scottsdale is like. People who think they're cultured enough to speak French and do French things but don't understand a word of the language and just end up looking like asses while doing these supposedly "FRENCH" things.
For example, today I drove past a little restaurant and under the name "The Kitchen" it read "Market | Wine Bar." What the fuck is a wine bar? I'll tell you what it is. It's a chance for Mrs. Fake Boobs and her Husband Mr. Good Golf Swing to take their couple friends Mr. and Mrs. Matching Rolex Watches to a nice fancy lunch and impress them.
That's what all these people are about. They don't care that they're getting into credit card debt or that that they're never going to be able to pay off their house. They just care about making themselves look really cool and really rich. When in reality they aren't. What they are is poor. Poor because they lack a lot of things. They lack money. They probably lack more than a bachelor's degree. They lack morals.
I'll start with the degree thing. Now I know grad school isn't for everyone. I understand if you don't. But I don't want to hear you bitching about how you wanted to not even go to college, but you want the new iPhone, a Prius, a mansion, a pool and all this bullshit. I'll be honest: a master's degree is going to be necessary in the future. Eventually, a BA/BS alone won't be enough. You'll need something else. You'll need a little more. And that's where the master's degree will help. Put you ahead. Give you the house and pool, if you play your cards right. But if you bitch about school, fail, and then move along with your degree in business, you'll more likely than not become that Painfully Average Person (thanks for that one Sydney) and drown in debt and mediocrity. Which will suck but it will be your fault because you wanted larger breasts, a new pool, and a chance to tee off with the boss last Sunday in hopes of getting that promotion he already gave to his son-in-law. Sucks for you.
Secondly, the moral thing. These people lack morals because they're consumed with materialistic desires to please and impress. Know why I think that's immoral? Because you're spend your children's college money on out door furniture. You're spending money you could spend on their future on pricey wine and a 1.5 million dollar house you could never afford and will never pay off. You're declare bankruptcy and the house will go into foreclosure.
I'll tell you another story. My family looked for houses for a really long time. We've living in AZ for four years and JUST bought a house this past December. Yeah. It's been rough. But the houses were just too expensive. We looked at one in Fountain Hills in this really nice neighborhood full of fancy houses and stuff. It was a strange house- empty and abandoned, except for a few tell-tale signs. It was obvious these people lived beyond their means. The house was in foreclosure and they'd made a hasty exit. But they left some things behind.
A boat in the garage for instance.
Two jet skis.
A drawer full of video games and abused DVD's. Nice games and movies. Like season 2 of House. Grand Theft Auto. The Best of Family Guy. Transformers. Like, NICE DVD's. Stuff that's over thirty bucks at Best Buy. All seven Harry Potter books rested in the closet. Next to a Guitar Hero set. There was a drum set in one of the rooms. A pool table downstairs. A nice dog bed outside. Cereal in the pantry. They'd left fast and left behind a lot of things. Nice things. Things they didn't actually own because it was all bought on credit.
It was kind of creepy. But enlightening. These people had just wanted to impress. Impress who? I don't know. The house was custom built, the lighting was the best of the best, the flooring really nice. Everything was top-of-the-line quality.
But none of it was their own.
It was all on credit, which is sad, but it's life. People all over Scottsdale drive cars they can't afford because they need to look like they can. They need to feel better about themselves. I'm so fucking sick of this materialistic bullshit.
I have a laptop. You know why? Because I went to college and I needed one. My dad bought it for me. Not because I whined and begged for it. Because I needed it. I have clothes and a cell phone (sort of) and a dog. We live in a house we could afford to buy. We pay off ALL the credit card charges, not the minimum balance. My step-dad is a good man who went through a lot of hell and schooling to get here today. He's a doctor and I'm not ashamed to admit it. We can afford our lifestyle. But we could have been like anyone else in this town. We could buy cars we can't afford or try to buy a 2 million dollar house or own a boat. But we don't. We don't live beyond our means.
You don't have to have money to do this. That's what makes me mad. Even when my mother was poor, she always paid the bills. Always paid for our healthcare. Always paid the rent. Always made sure we had food to eat and were healthy. Because she understood, even though we had very little, the importance of not falling into debt. We didn't waste money on trivial things and we don't do that now. All these annoying pretentious bitches in Scottsdale need to shove their Coach purses up their asses and start saving money. Because Mrs. Fake Boobs won't be happy when her house goes into foreclosure. Nope, she won't. Not. One. Bit.