Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:OP will hate me.

I was a military brat and we moved to a new base every three years. The bases were mostly in Central Europe, so that was fun, but the actual housing was nothing fancy *at all* as any military family can attest. My family was, and still is, solidly upper lower middle class.

When people ask me where I'm from, I just say "I grew up in Europe," which is 100% true, and seem much more glamorous than I actually am.

I hate to break it to you but everyone will be able to tell you're a military brat and that's why you "grew up in Europe". The vibe between a military brat type person vs someone who grew up at a German boarding school because theyre parents are wealthy is extremely different. No one is going to buy you went to Institute le Rosey, my friend. Everyone knows that military brats exist and they give off the same blue collar vibes as if theyd grown up in Alabama. That's like saying "I'm from Maryland" and just assuming people will think you're from Chevy Chase when you grew up in Hagerstown. People aren't fools and they can tell the vibe

Jesus.

And this is why nobody wants to talk to you at parties.

Plus military / state dept “Brats” often attend international schools and are quite sophisticated with parents who are committed to larger public goods.

I would not care about the opinion of anyone who look down on others because their families made sacrifices to serve their countries.

Anonymous wrote:I'm from Mars

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:I was born in Manhattan and lived in the city till I was 12.

I always find it funny when a 22 year old in a walk up sublet in Manhattan from the Midwest is from NY but I am not.

Me too!

Born in Brooklyn, went to PS 179 and my parents moved us to Rockland (half hour outside the city) when we were 11 & 13 because there was a big fight at our middle school basketball game and some rival school kids brought switchblades... that was it, they'd had it... but I'm not from the city either then I guess, lol.

Anonymous wrote:Asking where people are "from" is in order to put them in a box.

You're from London? Oh ok so you're probably highly educated and wealthy if you found your way here (DC).

You're from Nebraska? Oh you're a hick who is not worth my time....unless you're one of those outliers who attended Princeton.

Etc etc etc ad nauseam.

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:Asking where people are "from" is in order to put them in a box.

You're from London? Oh ok so you're probably highly educated and wealthy if you found your way here (DC).

You're from Nebraska? Oh you're a hick who is not worth my time....unless you're one of those outliers who attended Princeton.

Etc etc etc ad nauseam.

Np, and I 100% agree with you.

My team and I met with a woman from another department in our agency a few months ago. She asked us to introduce ourselves, what we did, and where we were from. It was a strange question, given the context/brevity of the meeting and that our paths would likely never cross again. When she got to me, I said I was from the DC- area. When she asked me to specify where in DC, I mentally confirmed my suspicion of why she was asking. It was so obvious and pathetic.

Anonymous wrote:Asking where people are "from" is in order to put them in a box.

You're from London? Oh ok so you're probably highly educated and wealthy if you found your way here (DC).

You're from Nebraska? Oh you're a hick who is not worth my time....unless you're one of those outliers who attended Princeton.

Etc etc etc ad nauseam.

Anonymous wrote:I think its always interesting when people lie about essential background truths.

I met a friend of a friend once at a dinner party and she went into a whole spiel that she was a stewardess with British Airways. Told me long involved stories about in-flight near disasters. Then she started laughing. She was just an unemployed actress and was delighted that she'd fooled me. Of course I didn't have any time to listen to her after that. Ever.

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:The details of my life are quite inconsequential…. Where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Some times he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical, summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds, pretty standard really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum, it's breathtaking, I suggest you try it.

Omg, I'm CRYING right now.

This was absolutely genius. 💀

You know this is from Austin Powers, right?

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:The details of my life are quite inconsequential…. Where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Some times he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical, summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds, pretty standard really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum, it's breathtaking, I suggest you try it.

Omg, I'm CRYING right now.

This was absolutely genius. 💀

Anonymous wrote:The details of my life are quite inconsequential…. Where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Some times he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical, summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds, pretty standard really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum, it's breathtaking, I suggest you try it.

Anonymous wrote:The details of my life are quite inconsequential…. Where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Some times he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical, summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds, pretty standard really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum, it's breathtaking, I suggest you try it.