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I see those Banana-Republic wearing, middle-class, so-called liberals entering their more-expensive-than-I've-ever-been-able-to-afford apartments, and I think, other than the over-use of hyphens, about how I could afford to live that life if I was a stable 23 year-old. If I didn't have a moral dilema about every choice I made I would have graduated college and have some mindless job that allowed me to live like the rest of McAmerica. But, I decided to do things the hard way. I decided to hold my ideals on a higher level than my desire for monetary gain. I decided that there was no way that material possesions could make me happy, yet I find myself in a constant strugle to obtain the material goods necessary to allow me to survive.

I feel like that character in Reality Bites, the Eathan Hawke guy that lives on the couch and sings in that band that does Violent Femmes covers. He gives the appearance of being some sort of intelligent guy who has all the answers, but he's a total sponge who could never support himself. Sure, he gets Wynona Ryder in the end, but everybody knows that Ethan Hawke does not deserve Wynona Ryder. Come on, he writes bad novels, and she liberates crappy clothes from at Saks. It's not hard to figure out who is the loser in this equation. (shoplifting from Saks is far more beneficial to society than bad fiction.) Yuppie or not, Ben Stiller is a pimp. That's reality. It bites that I can't identify with his character, but I guess that no one can eat 50 eggs.