Yuppie World

Yuppie World

So my dad is pretty upset over the fact that my grammar blows and I can't spell good.( yup that's bad grammar right there. I'm being facetious)  He says I come off as ignorant... I think he means dumb. I don't care to be honest with you. I never claimed to be an english major, and yes I make elementary mistakes. Yet, I apologize to you the reader... for my errors. How annoying this must be for you. I tripped my way through the english language and did even worse with the french language. Yet you can clearly read this... isn't that good enough? 

 Anyway, my dad is a good guy really.Thanks dad for your help. Sorry I shame you so. And sorry I just stuck this on here with your corrections... but I'm too lazy to fix them, and that's why I'm a rebel without a cause. and...  My dad is real smarty pants, he went to a swiss boarding school. I did not. clearly. Which is a perfect tie in to my story! Yuppies come from swiss boarding schools and live on the mainline, which is how I got there in the first place. My dad is a yuppie and loves Starbucks. He was not a huge fan of this blog. He said it was too...vitriol at the beginning. (I had to look that word up). Anyway, heres my story. 

Ok so this is what I wrote a few hours ago. 

I am currently sitting in a Starbucks on the main line not more than a mile from where I grew up. It is maybe the 4th time I have been alone in the last 6 months. It is a GREAT feeling. Thanks MOM! Love you….. poor woman is probably slip sliding around in dirty diapers and prying a lollypop out of her hair..

What is not a great feeling is the place that I am currently sitting. It is everything that I find wrong with the world. I couldn’t think of any other place to go to get away from the noise of screaming children. It only just dawned on me that I could have just gone to the library. Oh well. I’m here now. Sitting with my small coffee. And yeah, that’s how I ordered it. I refuse to say the French word for small. I refuse to order a special coffee with soy milk or some sort of flavor or leave the tea bag in for 10 seconds and fill the rest with foam sort of stuff. It’s bad enough I am sitting in the one establishment that has killed little coffee shops that once hosted great bands like Bruce Springsteen and other people I can’t think of right now.

Oh boy… I feel a rant coming on. Here we go. This coffee sucks! It’s too strong, what is wrong with you people?  Why does it need to be so strong?, Drink some juice for god sakes… you will get the same effect without getting the shakes and feeling like you just sniffed a barrel of cocaine (not that I would know what that’s like).

Oh look here comes the quintessential douche bag… driving up in their brand new Range Rover, tripped to the nines with the special pinstripe that has their initials on it as if they are someone special. He’s wearing the aviator sunglasses thinking he’s James Bond, wearing the tight turtle neck that most likely cost $200, and the North Face jacket that could keep you warm on a summit that this guy will never encounter.

Meanwhile, oh wait…I’m wearing the same thing…. Why? Because it’s the Main Line, and you have to dress different just to fit in. I knew I was coming here. Don’t get me wrong, I still rebel a little by wearing  my Ariat Horse boots that are covered in paint splashes and a little chicken poo…. If only these people knew I dragged some chicken poo in with me…. Classic.

And why in hell can’t I get the internet to work in this place?. I just paid $2 for a small coffee that is so strong that I am now getting aggressive. They should let you get internet without a computer degree to figure out how having to hack the system. Oh watch out, here she comes… you have to understand that while I usually write these things, I’m still in my PJ’s, and there is a lot of noise going on. My mind is shut off….. but now it’s on… and just getting warmed up thanks to this liquid crack I’m drinking.

I’m surrounded by these rich yuppies all dressed well… maybe in their mid 40’s…. what are they doing here? Why are they not at work? My god look at the ring that woman is wearing! That’s all I can see. And that’s the point. She’s got to be in her early 50’s yet she looks to be mid 40 and she is wearing her daughter’s clothes. Low rise skinny jeans in a size 0 with knee high boots that cost more than my college loan payments every month ($800).  Yup. What a waste.

And this is why I moved away from here. I want to be a REAL WOMAN. Without botox, without plastic surgery, without a complex about getting old and ugly, without hair dye, without makeup. With out a mid life crisis. I’m going to run circles around all you fake Barbie dolls when I’m 50.

It’s called confidence and I’ve always had it. This is why I don’t need all that crap. In fact I will go ahead and let you in on a little secret of how to be liked and wanted by a man. Be yourself. Don’t ask him “do I look fat” even if you are…. Flaunt that shit. Dance around as if no one is watching. If he ever puts you down….Snap that shit back in his face. Let him know it doesn’t faze you. Smile, Laugh, BE HAPPY…. Even if your not, make him think you are. Men don’t like miserable women. They avoid them.

I had a friend in high school. To me she was a troll, a real bitch, nothing special…. Yet she could walk into a room and people wanted to be her. I just didn’t get it. Now I do though… she smiled, laughed, and acted as though she were a celebrity. It works. When I’m feeling insecure, I pull my shoulders back, hold my head high, and make eye contact. Not in a creepy way like my husband does….that’s called a staring problem… he has these huge blue eyes, and I think he creeps people out with them.

Anyway, that’s why men love me. I’m a dude, with really small boobs and a true smile. How can you not like that? Ok well if you like huge boobs and big butt, and fancy hair and makeup…. I may not be your cup of tea.

Lately I have noticed that the hubster is really into me. You ladies know what I mean. I get lot’s of “I love you’s” that actually sound genuine, and lot’s of hugging, and hand holding… and all that crap. He likes me. He may even love me. I don’t know… but I think it’s this blog. Men also like women that DO something. Have something to talk about, and have something more to talk about other than the kids. Don’t be boring. Get yourself out there and LIVE!

This is getting long.

Anyway. These mainline yuppies? are fake. They wear their colors on the outside, and hide what’s important on the inside. Maybe I’m just jealous cause I want those boots. No… they have heels, I can’t walk in those. Nevermind. The chickens would look at me go nuts if I stomped in their poo with those boots on. And I guess… I should be a little nicer about these mainliners. They aren’t all bad. Some of them actually do work hard at….Stealing money from the poor?  Ha ha… no just kidding. I’m a I was born and raised as a mainline yuppie, and I turned out fine. And Starbucks is still a corporation that puts small business out on the street killed off many a small neighborhood cafe. I had an ex-boyfriend tree-hugger that who actually didn’t talk to me for a week because I got a cuppa joe from starbucks . I thought he was joking when he threatened me. It turned out to be fine…. I enjoyed the silence for a whole week. No more, picking up rocks in the shape of hearts and handing them to me. No more chewing on tea tree tooth picks, no more walking around the city in bare feet, and no shirt barefoot and shirtless. It was great. And that’s when I stopped dating the environmentalist guy and married instead the corporate country boy that who looks real nice but can kick your ass in a quick second. So sexy. But that’s another story.

Anyway, I have to go now. My mom is most likely on the verge of a mental breakdown. Can you blame her? My kids are a hand full, and that’s why this blog is so long today…. Because I had time to write it. Oh god you should see the shoes on that lady… they are blue Louboutins… my favorite.

I’m sure she is a bitch.