You guys! It's been practically forever since the last edition of Is Your Life Really That Bad, Julie Powell? --the only ongoing series on this blog where I personally attack Julie Powell... well, the only ongoing series with a name, that is...
So far, I've chewed out JP for complaining about living in Queens, for having a unlimited food budget, and for being ungrateful for her literacy. It's all about perspective here, people.
Today's Topic of Discussion: YOU HAVE SUCCESSFUL FRIENDS.
|Look at those friends and their varying modes of technology! Rich bitches.|
I don't get it, Julie Powell--if your life is really so terrible, then why do you still have super successful lady friends who are willing to hang out with you? They are clearly all high-powered executives at fancy New York companies, making $190 million dollar parcel deals at midtown and buying pantyhose at Bloomingdale's--you should be honored that they grace you with their presence from week to week. You are just a lowly government cubicle worker and a presumably poor one at that. Why are these successful people hanging out with you? Frankly, I don't know, which is why you should enjoy it while it lasts. Seriously, having successful (rich) friends must be awesome.
|A flip phone? Jesus, that woman is successful.|
Take your friend, Cassie for example. Look at how beautiful she is--be thankful that you have such a beautiful, not to mention vaguely ethnic, friend. The whole racially ambiguous thing is mad trendy right now. You know, Julie, that you can totally claim you have an exotic multi-racial friend at cocktail parties and not have to lie. Consider yourself lucky. That's every white person's dream!
UPDATE: My good friend Emma, an avid reader of the blog, just pointed out that she actually owns the scarf that Cassie is wearing in the above photo, and that it cost a little over $10.
|She sent me this photo for verification. I think she just wants her picture all over the internet.|
So much for my "rich, successful friend" theory. Whatever, maybe the Julie & Julia propmaster is a cheap-ass. But my main point is still relevant--these bitches are supposed to look successful.
|Look at that finely-tailored pantsuit! Definition of success.|
And what about Regina? Clearly she can afford nice clothes, prescription lenses, earrings, a power haircut, etc. I don't think it'd be too much long-shot to ask her to buy you nice things like that. I'm sure she's a generous woman. And those pearly whites! Trust me, I know good orthodontist work when I see it--and that, my friend, is is the result of some damn good ortho. Like seriously, all my fucking friends have terrible teeth. Be grateful you don't know any Brits (Apologies to my readers overseas. But not really, you all should floss more).
|Damn, how many necklaces does one super successful girl need?|
And finally, there's Annabelle, the reporter for New York Magazine. She literally controls the media. That's pretty fucking impressive right thur. Plus, she has a fucking palm pilot. How cool is that? Like, I bet that pen she's holding doesn't even have real ink. Probably one of 'dem new-fangled e-lectronic pens that can write with e-ink or some shit. If that ain't successful, then I don't know what is.
So the question remains: Why must you envy your friends' success, Julie Powell? If it's a jealousy thing, I mean, c'mon, get over yourself. Once you come to terms to the fact that you will probably never be as successful as your super rich and beautiful friends, then you'll be much happier in the long run.
Plus, after your dignity is out the window, you can MOOCH OFF THEIR SUCCESS. Duh. That's what successful friends are for.
Julie & Julia Quote of the Day: "Find out about dry cleaning."