Let's talk Dee-ver-seh-TEEEEEE
Hello my darlings,
I figured that you were all growing tired of my nonsense, so I decided maybe I should take a little hiatus. Then recently I've had a number of people comment about not getting coffee and a couple even said they actually missed it. I figured if people are willing to reach out to tell me that they miss this crap I should probably put my happy butt in a chair and write some shit down. Here it goes....
While the train really is such an amazing source of coffee fodder I've decided to take this coffee a little closer to home. Yep, once again I am going to rant about my apartment. Why, you ask, am I complaining about my charming little apartment that I adore. Well, I'm not going to complain about MY apartment, I am once again going to lament about the the overly-entitled, punk-ass kids that live in my apartment building. Sort of.... In reality, this is a fairly magnanimous rant about myself. Confused? Keep reading......
The inspiration for this cuppa crazy stemmed from a conversation with a friend about a "family meeting" that her sister insisted on to decide which custom couch should be purchased to furnish the Downtown Denver studio apartment of her 25-year old son. (just to clarify sister's son, friends nephew. The pronoun is not clear, but I was too lazy to figure out a way restructure the sentence without pronouns.) I assume, you, like me, are thinking, WTF! Or perhaps you are still focusing on how completely bat-shit crazy it is to conceive of this decision requiring a "family meeting." I think family meetings should be reserved for conversations like "Bobby Jim knocked cousin Carolyn up, again and we need to figure out who's going to pay for the abortion this time" (love you NaNet, but you did grow up in Alabama, so I couldn't resist) Now I realize you are probably on the edge of your seat wondering of all the possible choices, which custom couch they picked, but I have no idea, nor do I have any f*cks to give about the couch that they picked. I use this allegory to highlight a comment made by one very astute teenage girl that the whole notion of picking a custom couch sounded like "privileged white people problems"
Personally, I find the phrase "privileged white people problems" or PWPP as it will from here out be called, very entertaining, because, seriously, have you heard of the Kardashians, but I digress. After hearing about the PWPP comment then overhearing (OK, fine eavesdropping) a conversation between two young, bikini-clad babes returning from a very taxing afternoon of frittering away time by the pool. Pink bikini babe was whining to white bikini, less cute face, but much better body babe, about her complete jerk of a dad that is no longer making her car payment. It was at that very moment that I realized that it is very possibly that I now live in the epicenter of PWPP. This revelation heightened my awareness and observation skills (read: judgemental bitch) and I realized that while there is every color, shape and size of diversity across the street (OK at the skate park, the construction zone a little less so, though certainly not a lot of PWPP going on there, if you catch my drift. wink wink.) Now after nearly a week of close observation and 4+months of living in this building I realized that about the only thing here that could even pass as ethnic diversity was demonstrated by the very bronze, bikini wearing babes standing by the elevator.
Somehow, I'm not really sure ethnic diversity was intended to be measured in direct proportion to the type and factor of sunscreen selected when lounging by the pool. Though the Tesla, three Porsches, and I've lost count of the number of Audi's may have also been an indication. Regardless, I consider myself very fortunate that I am able to live in a lovely building, with great security and wonderful amenities. Where I am free to complain about the smell of dog urine by the elevator and chinese food containers left in the hallway. I also realize this pretty much makes me the epitome of a Privileged White Person complaining about Privileged White People Problems. For that I feel truly BLESSED!
Until next time...
XOXO
PS - I FINALLY got the last of Ray's Fidelity accounts transferred to me. Now I just have to figure out how to manage all of the money in all of the accounts in all of the different places.
PPS - I also received another bill from DirecTV, this one for $14.31, I'm still refusing to pay it.
PPPS - Verizon seems to be working pretty well, so I guess I should take them off my hate list.
PPPS - that is ALL of the PWPP problems I think I have to complain about right now.
PPPPS - OK, my boss is really annoying the crap out of me too, but this is a temporary gig and I have wine, so I can deal with that.