Hoooooooooooooooooooooooly shit. So, earlier today, my coworker ran out of the building with yet another “I’vegottogoI’llbebacktomorrow”. Guess what it was this time? Previous editions have included:

*Sister with infected vagina from heroin *’What’s Eating Gilbert Grape’ Mother with leg through stairs *Son with migraine (one of these things is not like the others, one of these things just doesn’t belong…)

This time…..her 19 year old daughter who had a baby not all that long ago announced she’s getting married to the father of the baby in August…but she’s wearing an engagement ring from the father’s cousin, whom she also claims to love. I cannot WAIT for this to be on Jerry Springer. Oh please, let this be on Jerry Springer.

I was just reading Everything Everywhere, a blog on one person’s travels around the world, and this part on the pyramids at Giza is a bit heartbreaking.

“You will notice as you approach the pyramids that it is not like what you have seen in pictures all your life. While one side of the pyramids are up against the desert, the other side is right up against a residential neighborhood. In fact right across the street from the main gate to the pyramids is a Pizza Hut. That that is literally what the Sphinx is looking at.”

When I was in junior high, I went on a trip with my spanish class to Mexico. One of the places we visited was Teotihuacan, to see the Pyramids of the Sun and the Moon. They were beautiful, awe-inspiring landmarks, and it made me feel sick and sad to read that they opened a Wal-Mart right next to the site recently. That this pinnacle of an ancient civilization was lessened by proximity to a homogenized box store, its impact was lessened, it was cheapened. Here is a wonder…and here are plastic bits of nothing–on sale! Why haven’t these great treasures been preserved, been given the honor and respect they deserve?

Then, I feel a little guilty for basically admitting that I don’t want the people who live in these places to have modern things or conveniences, because it interferes with the romanticized idea I have of the ancient world. But surely there must be a happy medium? Something that will preserve these ancient sites yet not result in the Sphinx peering at a Pizza Hut?

My mom bought me this tiger-striped trainwreck when I was sixteen. In case you cannot tell, it’s fuzzy. It also came with a matching fuzzy miniskirt. It is unquestionably trashy, right? (Yeah, yeah, the poor fit adds to the trashiness but the muffin top is not the issue, dude.)

Yesterday, my mom called and asked what I wore to my white trash party. When I told her, she got really, really offended. “I didn’t think it was trashy. Not with that cute skirt!”

So, all along, my mom was styling me to be a high-class hooker.