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I DON'T CARE, I LOVE IT

I've accepted this period of my twenties as the 'Era of Wanting & Scraping,' which I half-heartedly blame on the robust and ever changing trends on the world's largest comparison machine: The Internet.

This era of unattainable materialism has forced me to prioritize, mainly my time and finances. So as I attempted to prioritize the essentials in life based on my 'beer wallet,' I couldn't help but put live music above more of the conventional girly musts-haves.

The way I see it / rationalize these purchases is by convincing myself that I'm making investments in the form of soul satisfying experiences and pure joy. So, these shows can be line-itemed (for all you accounting nerds) as not only amusement expenses, but also personal health savings. I just wish every splurge was so easily justifiable in my mind. Luckily, my mother has engrained survival thriftiness into my mind, and possibly DNA. Also if I spend beyond my means she would probably call me an entitled Obama lover (her words not mine, libs).

Anyways if I do something good for myself once a month it might actually help me survive in this town at least mentally. Too many beanies-wearers, scenesters, and name-droppers at every turn to remain mentally stable in these parts. So I gotta have some kind of outlet for don't-give-a-fuckery to ensue.

Okay, rant over and to commence this great personal vent sesh of poorness and hipster grudges, I will leave you with probably the number one girly-liberation songs out there right now. Basically the female version of YOLO.

Enjoy.


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