There are many things I regret: from the minor--using a sun lamp three inches from my face, without sun block (my face looked like pink puffer fish) to the time I bought a pair of shoes
1 size too small (it was the only size they had; hey they were adorable). Unfortunately, I then
walked around N.Y., turning my feet into a bloody mess. Maybe sometimes I drank too much. Maybe I didn't take school seriously enough. Then there's the monumental; things you said that you wish you could take back--you feel as if they've changed the course of your existence. I bet right now you might be wincing at the thought of your grand faux pas.
Maybe it's me. I've had a strong sense of shame all my life; the old right vs. wrong. You do something bad; hence, you feel bad right? Why does it seem as if no one has a sense of shame at all anymore: I do what I want, when I want--screw you. And why does it seem the ones doing it are all younger than me and couldn't give a flying rat's ass?
The one thing I find interesting about getting older is how much disdain I have for the youth.
Age gives you that great force field of indignation; no, not the old "in my day" speech, just the way things are going the youth today do seem like a cavalcade of schmucks.
They were mollycoddled as kids, can do no wrong as teens and now in their early twenties are covered in tattoos and piercings, sitting in Starbucks with laptop all day long. Why don't you
have a job? What do you do all day? I would love to have the life of leisure; why, in fact I've written about it, but I can't--I have that pesky thing called rent. Whatever happened to having tattoos that you could hide; you know, if you had a job. I love when women have tattoos on their necks; nothing says classy like having "Tony's Girl" blazoned across one's throat. I want that woman handling my cash at the bank.
It's just my opinion--I can just imagine the parents of some of these winners. Probably out there, a couple worked their fingers to the bone to send Fred to college, only to find he's in debt
from his second life habit. His avatar name is Thor--he's quite the lady killer for a cartoon; his
girlfriend's avatar name is Luxana, a raven haired goddess (!)--actually, she's a Midwest lump with two kids and probably has a bunch of dumb tattoos--a bunch of cherubs and fairies.
Me, I don't have kids--don't want them and I can't imagine what it must feel like to be the parent of some of these wretches. Parents, I would say I feel for you , but I would make me a liar and that would make me feel shame.
1 size too small (it was the only size they had; hey they were adorable). Unfortunately, I then
walked around N.Y., turning my feet into a bloody mess. Maybe sometimes I drank too much. Maybe I didn't take school seriously enough. Then there's the monumental; things you said that you wish you could take back--you feel as if they've changed the course of your existence. I bet right now you might be wincing at the thought of your grand faux pas.
Maybe it's me. I've had a strong sense of shame all my life; the old right vs. wrong. You do something bad; hence, you feel bad right? Why does it seem as if no one has a sense of shame at all anymore: I do what I want, when I want--screw you. And why does it seem the ones doing it are all younger than me and couldn't give a flying rat's ass?
The one thing I find interesting about getting older is how much disdain I have for the youth.
Age gives you that great force field of indignation; no, not the old "in my day" speech, just the way things are going the youth today do seem like a cavalcade of schmucks.
They were mollycoddled as kids, can do no wrong as teens and now in their early twenties are covered in tattoos and piercings, sitting in Starbucks with laptop all day long. Why don't you
have a job? What do you do all day? I would love to have the life of leisure; why, in fact I've written about it, but I can't--I have that pesky thing called rent. Whatever happened to having tattoos that you could hide; you know, if you had a job. I love when women have tattoos on their necks; nothing says classy like having "Tony's Girl" blazoned across one's throat. I want that woman handling my cash at the bank.
It's just my opinion--I can just imagine the parents of some of these winners. Probably out there, a couple worked their fingers to the bone to send Fred to college, only to find he's in debt
from his second life habit. His avatar name is Thor--he's quite the lady killer for a cartoon; his
girlfriend's avatar name is Luxana, a raven haired goddess (!)--actually, she's a Midwest lump with two kids and probably has a bunch of dumb tattoos--a bunch of cherubs and fairies.
Me, I don't have kids--don't want them and I can't imagine what it must feel like to be the parent of some of these wretches. Parents, I would say I feel for you , but I would make me a liar and that would make me feel shame.
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