Little Boxes Made of Ticky Tacky…
have i mentioned that i HATE the suburbs of chicago? yes. it is a great place to raise a family. yes. i am happy that i had a safe upbringing that provided me the tools and opportunities to succeed in life. but i was also taught how to work for what i wanted. i was never handed anything on a silver platter. my parents never really GAVE me anything. at the time, it sucked. my friends’ parents just gave them money whenever they wanted it. and new cars. and new clothes all the time. my parents told me to get a job.
looking back, i am SO thankful to my parents for that.
that being said, i HATE this suburban hell that i’m stuck in.
a couple days ago, i almost got hit by this 16-year-old punk in a douchey flat-brimmed hat covering his justin bieber hair cut, driving an ESCALADE.
i’m sorry. did that not compute? let me reiterate.
was driving THIS:
so so so wrong. that THAT almost hit me. me, in my 1994 MINIVAN. that is falling apart. seriously, i have to pray that i get to work everyday without it falling apart. i need to buy myself a car. just…one that reliably runs would be nice…but i digress.
i hate the spoiled kids in this area. who are bought an expensive car by daddy on their 16th birthday, that they will inevitably total within a few months (weeks? days…) and then will be bought a new one. as a…reward for being a bad driver?
welcome to my world. filled with over-privileged, spoiled brats who grow up being taught that they’re above everyone else and are entitled to whatever they want. their self-centered attitudes and complete disregard for anyone else in the entire universe is…argh. it takes all my self control to not scream at these kids.
i’m going back to milwaukee this weekend. to see my friends. to see my boyfriend. to eat a burger at AJ Bombers. and to escape my suburbia hell bubble.