Dear Amritsar,
My parents are ruining my life! Not…like the last time they ruined my life – okay, that was a bit of a false alarm. And, not the like the time they ruined my life before that – I may have been a teensy bit of a drama queen about that. And, definitely not the way they ruined my life the time before that, because that would portray a level of self-awareness that I, as a teenage girl, should not have. Refuse to have. So, let’s say that, OMG, my parents are ruining my life! For reals, this time!
When we first got our Home Universe GeneratorTM, it was top of the line. State of the art. Day of the Triffids. IM not so HO, it was the best. But, that was three months ago. And, it wasn’t even that perfect: they wouldn’t get me a 1,000,001 Dalmations (what can I tell you – inflation) slip cover for my Home Universe GeneratorTM (they said it was for the whole family, including my four brothers, five sisters and the barn owl, but AFAIC that was just their way of saying that they would like me to share the machine when I felt like it)! I mean, everybody I knew had a culturally relevant slip cover for their Home Universe GeneratorTM, even Berkeley Buzzkill, and he didn’t even have an automated limousine, just an old-fashioned human driver!
I should have known right then and there that TPTB were going to be a nuisance.
As the Home Universe GeneratorTM was improved, my parents refused to buy any add-ons, saying that it should be enough that the family had the machine. Can you believe that? They wouldn’t buy me additional memory cards (“Just play the hand you were dealt,” my dad advised, ROTFL), so I could only save realities in black and white while my friends could save them in full 3-D colour. Gross!
Last month, everybody who is anybody (and, BTW, many nobodies who wanted to be somebody), had to have the Slice and Dice app, which took second-long clips from random realities and made music videos out of them. Was I allowed to get it? Nyuh-uh! But, the killer was yesterday, when Google Home Universe GeneratorTM Search Engine version 4.0 – nicknamed Snow Crack – was released. It has so many advanced features, you practically need to be Stephen Hawking to use it. And, do you think I can get one?
What do you think? I was SOL.
I’m afraid to let my friends come over and see my horrible, terrible, awful, ancient three month old Home Universe GeneratorTM. But, AIH, I’ve been planning my friend Jewlissa’s Sweet 16 Surprise Sock Hop and Strawberry Siesta since she turned, like, 12, and it’s next week, so it’s too late to cancel it! What can I do?
Bobbi STBY Beasely
Hey, Babe,
Your parents aren’t trying to ruin your life. If that was their intention, they would have left you to fend for yourself on a polar ice floe in the dead of winter soon after you were born. The old ways are always the best.
They may be trying to save money for necessities like clothing, housing and feeding…let’s see…nine…10…12 cold bodies/hungry mouths. You might have realized this if you weren’t so self-absorbed. Yes. I used the SA word. But, it was appropriate! On the Nicene Narcissism Index, you would rate about a 7.9. That’s slightly above the man whose cart runs over a beggar, but whose only concern is whether or not he broke an axle, and just below Donald Trump. (Yes, I was surprised, too – I was sure Trump would have been a 9.9. Damn Rumanian judge!)
Try not to take these things so seriously. Remember: laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and the world laughs at you alone.
Dear Amritsar,
I am not self-absorbed! FYI, I gave used colouring books to homeless orphans of wounded Afghan veterans killed in Hurricane Carter! And, they weren’t even that used – I would get bored by the third page, colour one or two pages entirely black out of frustration and then put each book aside and demand another one – they’re practically brand new!
And, anyway, what does my “self-absorption” have to do with my question? DITYID? How can I have my friends over without dying of mortification!
Bobbi LABATYD Beasely
Hey, Babe,
You know, when I was your age, the abacus was all the rage among the popular kids at my public school. And, it was constantly evolving. First, there was an extra line of beads. And, multicoloured beads for ease of calculation. There was even a pocket version for ease of calculating while travelling. Not that it mattered: my parents wouldn’t let me have anything but the original abacus. And, you know what? Not only did I survive, but I grew up to be a successful advice columnist. Imagine that!
Remember: What doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger, and mortification is rarely fatal. If you don’t like it? Well, TANJ.
Send your relationship problems to the Alternate Reality News Service’s sex, love and technology columnist at questions@lespagesauxfolles.ca. Amritsar Al-Falloudjianapour is not a trained therapist, but she does know a lot of stuff. AMRITSAR SAYS: What? I’ve already given you two pieces of folk wisdom in the body of the article! And, you want more? What do you think I am, some kind of wisdom spewing machine? Honestly, some people are never satisfied!