tragically hip

I mentioned that my workplace is near the trendiest, hippest part of town. During my breaks, I go for walks rather than wasting one more minute in that evil dungeon where feeling like a drooling moron is part of the job desciption that they didn't advertise. I walk up and down Broadway, Pike, and Pine and every day I fall in love with Seattle a little more and more. There are a bunch of cool stores, restaraunts, and of course you can't go two blocks without running into a coffee joint or a homeless person peeing out in the open. I also get to see all the urban hipster chicks walking around in their baby-tees, low-rise pants, and black rimmed glasses so that by the time my walks are over, I feel completely inadequate. Well, since I won't go the meth route, I've decided that I too will become horribly emaciated through anorexia. I'm telling you, when I have the body of Fiona Apple (whose album is being released finally) it'll all be worth it, especially when the hunger pains that double me over and the random fainting in alley ways cease. Because there is nothing more important than completely fitting in when you are trying to set yourself apart.