And the constant barrage of expectations about what money should and should not mean to us — the degree to which it is acceptable to be poor — leaves many feeling as though real problems with money, especially those we were raised in and thus can feel defined by, are not to be spoken about.
When you’re a kid, talking back to your teacher could get you into detention, or an uncomfortable parent-teacher conference that might end with no dessert for, like, a month. When you’re an adult, talking back to your boss could make you homeless in a matter of weeks.
I love crying. Sometimes, I feel like a good cry, and I just get all hopped up on Death Cab and heartwarming puppy rescue videos on YouTube and have a nice sob for a half hour or so.
We are ready to drop those closest to us like an overfull backpack, running unencumbered to the people who don’t deserve our attention. We can even see them (as much as we hate to admit it) as a nuisance in the face of greater opportunity.
The most heartbreaking moments for me in life have always been moments like this, like that couple on the street — things so beautiful I felt I almost had to look away — when there was no one there to share it with. I found myself turning around, instinctively looking for someone, anyone, to share and confirm this for me.
And now that graduation has come and gone for many of them, the picture is quite different. So many of them — the very people whose parents were dripping with condescension over their children going to a “real” school, despite the debt they were accruing — are unable to find jobs.
How is it that one man managed to go from doing hard drugs and washing dishes with his hair down to his butt cheeks to essentially being the Crown Prince of all things travel and food?
What would we do without the internet? Realistically, probably go to libraries and get regular vitamin D, but it’s really a moot point.
And no, not Beyonce or Lady Gaga or whatever other pitiful facsimile of a Diva our generation has managed to scrounge up, I’m talking about real ones. Tina, Whitney, Barbra, Cher, and — in my opinion, most importantly, Celine.
But for people whom I barely know, people whose weddings I’m not attending, people who used to post cool videos of snakes molting or whatever and now only talk about fabric options — I implore you, get a grip.