How Cool Am I?

I was driving today thinking about how I contribute to the world. It is decided, I am the coolest cat in town. I know this because after I left my super-slacker job where I super-lacked and talked about fat arms with people, I drove my kind-of-beater car 20 miles to the house I live in where I rent a room from my mother. And on top of it all I was eating Black Currant chocolate (marry me Lindt!) and listening to Iron and Wine.

Seriously, how much more hipster can I get. I just need skinny jeans and Mumford and Sons, maybe an Irish sweater and fringe.

Oh, wait! We can call that all a check, even though I'm getting a bit down on Mumford, not their fault entirely but I could use a new CD in my car which is equipped for XM radio (which I'm totally not going to ever pay for) but won't play FM.

Also I bought Kate Miller Heidke's (thank you Nora) album last night on the iTunes, which I know is so super main stream of me but I don't have a vinyl player... also I don't think Target is carrying anything that has "Are you F*cking Kidding Me?" contained anywhere in it (though who knows they do carry those books about the Navy officer and boinking his wife's secretary, also I need to jump on that cash cow!) And after buying said music I shared it with my younger sister who now thinks I'm every super cooler than she thought I was before (not hard to do.)

In my cool streak I have to add that I didn't wear hoes today. I know, it was freeezing. But as I said to my boss after she snorted "Of course you're cold you never wear hoes." I reminded her that at my real person job (which I've had for two weeks) I wear hoes everyday so she can suck it.*

And before you shake your head and say that I'm feeling sorry for myself blah blah blah, this post was not written sarcasticly. I'm in high spirits. I don't even feel bad for pussing out on Wednesday and not making it to work. Apparently, everyone did that, or they have hell stories from their drive home.

Have a bit of music!



*So that last bit I said after she walked away but you know.

The Dreaded Hipster

I was in class one day discussing Visual Rhetoric (it was the name of the class) with my most favorite of professors when the title was created. Jay just blurted it without regard to the potential hipsters in the room and to this day I can recall the exact quote

"Then from across the quad you spot him; skinny black jeans, iPod playing (insert hipster song title) and you know. It's the Dreaded Hipster."

Ok, so it's a fairly inexact quote, but you get the idea.

Anyhow, the dreaded hipster has become very important to me of late. A few days ago my good friend Nora sent me a picture via the facebook of some girls wearing silly garb and drinking in a bathtub, more importantly the photo was captioned

"When I get home I'll add Mumford and Sons lyrics and we'll be hipsters."

It made me giggle, 1 because I think hipsters are redic and 2 because if loving Mumford and Sons makes you a hipster I need to rethink my wardrobe and drink in a bathtub more often.

I do wear the skinny jeans sometimes. My friend Nora lives in them. I listen to Mumford and Sons instead of the radio because, despite Rolling Stone's disapproval of the heavy handed lyrics, I love them. While visiting Nora and joking about our hipster status, mine status being more of a joke than hers, she pointed out that we saw Mumford in concert before they released their first single, in the US and the UK(? on the UK release I'm not sure but they were defiantly the 1st supporting act).

Let us rejoice in my need to be an individual!

It almost disappoints me to think that the hipsters have started liking something I love. Hipsters who think they are super unique are indeed a large group of like folks. They dress alike and drink PBR together and laugh at the rest of us followers of trends (at which I laugh back).

I am happy for the success of Mumford and Sons, pissed that their current US tour is just out of my geographical and financial reach but deeply saddened that they aren't my special band anymore.

Oh another thing Mr. Hipster my sister wears plaid, converse, skinny jeans and the other one carries her beer in a backpack. You aren't that special.