late nights and loud fights
it's all just a blur

2:12 p.m. | 2005-10-26
I Saved The Green Ones...

"You look east coast."

Her voice trailed off, mumbling something about Orange County and shopping and I noted details and listened for a change in her inflection indicating it was my turn to "mmm" or "oh?" or any number of those sad clich´┐Ż phrases. I was listening to what she said, just not actively.

She wore a nice white shirt and you could tell a highly priced pieced, her jeans one of those name brands and her eyelashes (blonde to match her hair) were coated it black mascara, layers thick.

"After a year or so there I just realized I couldn't do that kind of stuff for the rest of my life..."

She was referring to shopping and that lifestyle. That consumerism that eats Americans (especially at the coasts) to the bone. She was saying how her shoes (heeled and strapped, matching her jeans) weren't Gucci.

Or something.

Now I'm no Patagonia wearing torn jean only-wear-it-if-it's-applicable item person. That's what Colorado is filled with. The money in the community gives people a financial backing to feed their non-consumerism fed needs. Patagonia is, after all, warm. Business people here wear jeans (nothing special) and sometimes a jacket to meetings. There is no pressed three piece suit or matching heels or editor style pants or any of those things.

This is not a rant. This is to say that people here are satisfied living in that culture, that they can suck it up and perhaps enjoy buying from Eddie Bower not Puma. This is to say that Orange County would much rather buy their shirt on Rodeo Drive rather than pick it from the racks of your local REI.

This is to say I don't fit.

This is to say I do fit.

This is to say that I don't know where and when I'll be satisfied. Or even if. All I know if I have fantasies of places other than this, and I think I'd hold it against myself if I never went to see if those fantasies were true.

ante / comment / post