That kind of month..

I seem to be having one of those months – you know, the kind where you wake up early but decide to be unproductive and regret it, when you make a great breakfast but burn the egg and the coffee gets cold because in your desperate attempt to make the time even better and fully enjoy it, you spend too long trying to make sure the seventybajillion weird pieces of hair that are pouting out at all directions because your hair stylist was bored actually do something worthy of an office? The kind of months where your lips are permanently chapped and your finger sprout hangnails like they have been coated in miracle grow. The kind of month where all of a sudden you feel like an entirely different person. A month where you are blamed for your boss’ mistakes, and doubt your capabilities.

Who do I feel like? That’s right, a hipster. I feel THAT weird. As you know, I have been reading a lot about them on the interwubs. And basically all being a hipster is, is being twenty something and confused and a little worried about ending up a yuppy. Also, hating hipsters is a pretty hipster thing to do. Now that there is a movie coming out, and books about it, and blogs about it, and ironic blogs about it, hipsterness is relegated to yet another generational phenomenon – like being Punk, or Hippies, or Alternative. It’s certainly not just an aesthetic phenomenon, because as far as I can tell most of us look a lot like hipsters to a 50 year old. We all love vintage shopping. And the idea of tattoos. And cheap beer – although, I don’t drink PBR (I drink Natty Bo, and only because Clarke left it in my fridge). It’s about not knowing what to do with your Fing life. So, we are all basically in line with Mulesy, the Flemmings, Wiley, et. al... at least it will seem that way when we’re 35. Sorry.

Also, I made a gigantic fool of myself this past weekend with my high school girlfriends. Which is pretty much the norm. And I spent all weekend stressing about it, which is also the norm. Every time I feel I have gotten to a great space where I have left everything I need to prove to them aside, I see them again and I get all huffy with myself and try too hard and say the wrong things and get upset. I think I need more alone with them, to remind myself they are my friends and not a panel of Tutors judging me for my Life Progress. Also, tip of the week, when you come into a gigantic and happy revelation about your relationship that happens to deal with just you and only you, don’t tell the first old friend who will listen. A) She will probably take it the way you said it, which was not at all what you meant b) You are more excited that the reality needs you to be c) It might make her feel bad. But, once you do this, forget about it and stop hating your decisions. I promise it will make the weekend better.