EXCLUSIVE! (I watched E! yesterday) So I started keeping a diary when I was thirteen. I may have had them before that, but thirteen really began the height of my angst. For one my parents got divorced that year. Add it to the typical hormonal maelstrom at the age and you get some heavy thoughts – and some extremely vapid ones. I must say my diary entries are the saddest, most pathetic and simultaneously hilarious and insightful things I’ve ever written. Hard to say if anyone else would feel the same way since they haven’t been inside my brain all this time. I still think anyone would enjoy this little excerpt for this spring. The yuppy, suburban lifestyles of Chicago were getting to me.
From May 1, 2009:
“I hate America and the strip malls and cavernous, overseasoned, hyperly hip restauarnts, the McMansions with too many eaves and windows and garages, the insistence of owning a gas-guzzling hunk of vehicle and the processed, hydrogenated-oiled, carb-stuff convenience foods.
I hate my jaded worldview and want anything fresh, genuine and kind. What is authentic? What is local? What is meaningful? These are the big questions that made me sick and nostalgic and vulnerable. I don’t want to be 14 or 18 or 5. I just want to be ok now. I don’t want to relive - I want today to be the best day of my life on a huge string of best days.”
Those questions sound like a marketing brainstorm excercise. But I do think a lot about how national chains are winning over cute, unique stores and it pains me.
