If Frasier were a 20-something yinzer...

Hey baby, I hear the blues a' callin'
chipped ham and old pierogies.
And, maybe I seem a bit confused.
Well, maybe, but I got you pegged....as a douche.

Recently, I have come to terms with my complete and utter hipster narcissistic tendencies. Dubs e. I have a ton of fucking free time and if I want to make sure that my belt, shoes, hat, watch, and underwear all match or are complementary colors, then fuck it. Dejame en paz. I do what I want.

The one thing that I'm not really used to is that in the States, I am a total douche. But, a Frasier-style douche. I mean, I don't want to be, but I just don't fit in with the other 23-year olds that live in my apartment building and that I come in contact with. It's not just me though, apparently other returned ex-pats experience the same thing.

I try to be normal, though. I have tattoos. I tan. I work out. All of these are normal, right?

But, I also read a lot...in multiple languages. I have a full-time job that I like, but that doesn't consume my life. And I go to the library once a week to check out documentaries and foreign films. Whenever I have a conversation, I tend to jump onto my profound turf and prefer if people can follow with me.

Frasier douche-bag moment last night:

I was at a bar and someone came up to and was very nice and said, "Wow! Your shoes are awesome! Where'd you get them?"
"Mango."
Their response, "Oh...where's that at? 16th Street?"
"No, Barcelona."
"Oh...."
"Yeah, I bought them when I was getting my masters. In Spain."
"Oh...."

While I wish that I could blame that shit on the alcohol, it was all me. (still no drinking! 3 weeks in!)

Douche-bag epiphany today:

As I was doing a brief cycling workout and reading my pretentious alternative press magazine (checked out from the local library), I was captivated by the focus of the magazine: Generation Y's obsession with themselves.


I scoffed, surely no one could be as vain as they alleged.

Then, a group of 8 bros strutted in with two sorostitutes. They were drinking beer, shirtless, and taking photos of each other, while wearing sunglasses inside. The bros started to lift weights while the girls giggled and took cell phone pictures.




It was literally such an awkward display that I assumed they were joking and being all hipster ironic. They weren't. They were just dicks and literally stopped mid afternoon delight circle jerk session to come in and have a weight lifting contest.

*Sigh.*

I guess I don't want to be a normal 23 year old after all. Especially if these are the people that would be my friends. Graduate school, here I come. Again.