No Assholes Allowed

I felt like my last two posts were obnoxiously opinionated, which I really try not to be. If you haven't read them, you can find them here and here. I am a sarcastic little bitch at times, which has landed me in trouble on numerous occasions. Normally, I don't feel too bad about it, but lately I have been feeling a bit guilty.

Okay, not that guilty, but enough to notice.

My post titled "Dirty Laundry" was witty, if I do say so myself, but also so hypocritical because I still find myself in rainbow printed socks regularly and secretly would kill for a pair of Vans sneakers. I should have clarified that, so if anyone felt super-self conscious after reading it, I am sorry. Also, I am a firm supporter of being yourself and doing whatever the hell you want. So if you like wearing your high school sports team jacket five years after you've graduated, you go Glen Coco.

As for my post about the legalization of marijuana in New Hampshire, I don't really care how many people hated me after reading it. Although, I should say, it truthfully doesn't matter to me if the bill passes or not. I am neither yea or nay, particularly because it doesn't affect me whatsoever. I don't dabble in the Devil's grass, but I know plenty of people who do, who I care for deeply. I just feel like there are so many other avenues of concern that people should focus on, and it saddens me that legalizing pot is amongst their top priorities.

Okay, that's it. I will put it to rest.

On another note that has been rattling around in my brain since last weekend, someone told me I am standoffish and too uptight.

"You need to loosen up. You have a blockade of walls around you."

I hate it when someone says something that makes you question your judgement or who you are, in general. I have never considered myself to be standoffish or uptight. I feel like I am fairly open-minded and down-to-earth. I like to believe I am, anyway. I strive to be, too.

As for the blockade of walls, my response was, "Yeah! With good reason."

Maybe I do come off as standoffish, maybe even cold. I never used to be like that...

I don't like to sit around and cry for pity, because in all actuality my life is not terrible, nor has it ever been. I had my fair share of personal battles that I had to overcome, and a lot of them were social ones, because not too long ago, I was sixteen, and my social life trumped everything else. However, in the past year I have spent a lot of time weeding out the negative people and energy I had in my life, and replaced them with people and things that mattered. I don't like to let a lot of people in, because too many times my trust was betrayed and I mended and re-mended bonds that weren't worth my time.

Not that I think I'm amazing either, because I am flawed just like every other human being, but the human being I am is a sacred one, and she only deserves the best. She doesn't have time for the people who are only out to use and abuse her. She's much better than that.

It took me a long time to come around to that conclusion, but it's true.

So maybe to the outside world I come off as cold and standoffish. Maybe my walls are completely visible and apparent, but I'm okay with that.

At least my walls are big and mighty, complete with a sign that hangs on the bolted shut door. It reads, "No Assholes Allowed"

Dirty Laundry

I talked to one of my mom's oldest friends on the phone today for about two and a half hours. I've known her my entire life, but I haven't seen her in probably four years, maybe even more; long enough that I don't remember. I've never actually sat and talked with her for as long as I did today, and I have to say, it was awesome. She's a riot, and hearing her stories about when my mom and her lived together were hilarious too. She has a son who is about four or five months older than I am. Growing up, I always thought he was my cousin or something; family. She told me the story about when she went into labor with him, and my mom was the one who saw her through the entire delivery. What a sight for sore eyes that must have been: two pregnant ladies coming into the hospital together, one ready to give birth and the other one holding her hand the entire way.

It's something to think that was almost twenty-one years ago. When I was in the seventh grade, I thought the people in their senior year of high school seemed so big and old. But once I made it there, I didn't feel so big or old. Although, the seventh graders didn't look to be any older than about nine.

It's strange entering into being twenty. Twenty always seemed so far off and distant; so adult.

I did a copious amount of laundry today and lately I've desperately been trying to get rid of some clothing (mostly because I want to go shopping even more desperately). I always gave away clothes because they didn't fit anymore, were worn out, or I just didn't like them anymore. But, I have articles of clothing that I bought when I was thirteen, and they still fit. Some plain black shirts just don't go out of style, and they hold up, so why chuck them? Others are still just so cute and fun, but I am forcing myself to oust them because I am not thirteen, nor do I want to look thirteen (which at times can be difficult because I haven't changed much since then, clearly, since my clothes still fit).

In the midst of my laundry escapade, I came across this hot little number from Charlotte Russe: A royal blue body con skirt that stops about six inches above the knee. Sexy little thing. I bought it when I was sixteen.

I'm retiring her to the Good Will pile...

As I folded the little piece of stretchy fabric, it got me thinking. That skirt is not the only piece of clothing that needs to go if I want to be taken seriously. So then, I started making a mental list. That mental list has expanded into this post, because I think some others can relate. And if they can't, then they need to.

1. Practically anything from Hollister or Abercrombie
I mean come on. Besides, I'm a pretty dainty person, and I wear a size L in both of those stores... and usually I still need a size up, but it doesn't exist.

2. Socks that are any color other than black, white, grey or navy blue
I know, they are so fun, but rainbow cheetah print doesn't look very nice when you are over the age of 12.

3. Barrettes
Not to mention those stopped being cool in like 1997... But seriously, just use a bobby pin.

4. Graphic T's
"Summer fun in the sun! Est. 1984" You know you still have at least one...

5. Letterman jackets
These probably don't exist anymore anyway, but even the jackets with your high school sports team logo, your name and jersey number. Yeah... no...

6. Neon
Unless its workout gear or a sophisticated accent (which it never is) it needs to go! This applies to nail polish too.

7. It's ugly but sentimental
I won a million t-shirts and sweatshirts from countless sporting events, but I never wear hardly any of them. I feel funny throwing them away though, because they are special. An easy solution: pack them away! Then, when you have kids you can pull them out and reminisce... then pack them away again.

8. Ripped jeans
Need I say more?

9. Vans sneakers
They are so cool because they're hipster and punk and popular. But, purple sneakers...

10. Body con skirts and dresses
And really any skirt or dress that you have to continually pull down to make sure your girl isn't showing. I'm sorry, I know, they are so simple and make your ass look too good.

Okay, maybe just keep one of those.

Yeah, Man.

Writing wouldn't be such a powerful tool if authors continually stayed inside the lines. If everyone just said what they thought people wanted to hear, there would never be any truth or essence in literature. Honesty can be cruel and unforgiving, but it's brilliant.

What I have to say is too opinionated for a facebook status, and would start a comment war, which although that would be entertaining, I'm not interested in having a million useless notifications. Also, I think the people who are going to understand what I have to say are going to read this blog post. And, maybe if I am lucky, I will get a few naysayers in here too, who will leave a comment.

Before I start, let me just state something first.

It is absolutely none of my business whether or not people smoke pot. If they want to do that, great; good for them.

With that said, I really could give a rats ass about how amazingly high you were last night and that you smoked the fattest joint ever rolled in the history of rolling joints. Or, that after you ripped your bong "100 times" you ate the most deliciously crafted cheeseburger that surely came from Heaven because it was just that good. I could also live without knowing the name of every "piece" or "glass" you own, and the story behind where and when it came into your possession.

I understand passion. Every emotion I feel and express is often associated with the word "dramatic," but I prefer to call myself passionate. I am incredibly passionate about writing, clearly. And, I hope to one day make it my career. I live for the high I feel after perfecting a difficult sentence, or finishing a story. Maybe that's lame, and if so, then I'm lame too.

I also understand money. Money talks. I dig that. I also can see how painfully our economy is suffering.  There are so many people who need jobs that just aren't available. It sucks, and I live in fear that once I earn my degree, there won't be a job to apply for within my field. I live paycheck to paycheck now, and I am afraid I always will.

Another thing that I understand and appreciate is nature. I live in the White Mountains for God's sake, how can I not love the landscape surrounding me? The air here is so clean and fresh. Where I live is so unique and special, because of the nature that I am engulfed in every day.

Would you like to know what I don't understand?

I don't understand why there is so much passion from people about legalizing marijuana. Here's a concept, what if you were as passionate and pressing about the job you currently have, rather than the idea that legalizing marijuana will solve all your financial whoas? What if, you spent more time researching ways to make your current job more lucrative instead of conjuring up why you should start a pot farm because you would be so amazing at it? How about starting a real farm stand, with tomatoes and lettuce and carrots because if you are so confident in your farming skills, why not put them to use for something that would actually put some money in your pocket?

And I know, I get it. It's from the earth. It was created by "God" so how could it be harmful?

I'm going to go smoke some poison ivy that I've been growing outside. It's from the earth right? Harmless. Nature. Yeah, Man.