When I say my friends are my family I’m dead serious
Not creating some extended metaphor to float through the air
My family is still my family
Love, support, travel
But it’s a little different with my friends
They love with all their being
They lift with all their strength
They send me to far off places
I don’t know if “friends” is a good enough word
They say it and I have to explain:
“These people are more than what you’re imagining”
We can’t be separated so easily
That’s just how it works
Don’t ask how is happened.
I may have mentioned that I was blisteringly insecure for a good portion of my life. I would even venture to say that I was until freshman year of college. There are a lot of reasons this insecurity came about (see this post), not to mention the intense pressures of living in our society, but just recently I remembered an incident from middle school that really bothered me.
Not many of us were incredibly well adjusted in middle school. It is just impossible with our shiny braces and awkwardly long limbs swinging everywhere (I have never quite recovered from that one). My problem in my eighth grade English class became a girl named Kaylee (identity protected, although I doubt she would ever read this).
Kaylee seemed nice to the naked eye. She would talk to me, was very pretty, and super sporty. All of these factors made her super popular and well liked in my school. I had no real group to fit into as I was neither a “super nerd” nor “super athletic”, but I talked to her anyway. I didn’t realize til much later how mean she really was. She wouldn’t, after all, talk to me when cooler kids were around.
Here’s the worst thing that she ever did to me: the girl shamed me for getting good grades. Now I know it isn’t appropriate to lord getting good grades or intelligence over others. I’ve had people do that to me and it really sucks. But when people ask them to show me my grade, they need to shut up and accept the consequences. Kaylee didn’t take my A’s to her D’s very well (that was an appropriate boob comparison as well). She actually got mad at me and yelled at me for doing so well.
I am most embarrassed about my reaction because for a while, I let her make me feel guilty for doing well. I hid my grades from my peers and was ashamed of doing well in my best subject. Luckily, I was snapped out of that funk pretty quickly. Why in the heck should I be ashamed for succeeding? It was only later that I realized that Kaylee was projecting her grades onto me.
This may not seem like such a big deal to some people, but for someone who decided to found their life on being intelligent at a young age, it was hard for me. I am glad it happened though, because it started my slow transition into a person who doesn’t let others shame me for what I do and what I like. The result couldn’t have been better. So I guess I can thank Kaylee someday. Too bad I don’t really feel like it.
I love to wear red lipstick, extra bold.
Some people wish I wouldn’t break the mold.
“Why do you wear so much on your face?”
Why don’t you get off my freaking case?
What do you expect me to do?
She doesn’t wear enough makeup for you.
You guys are never happy for a single day,
Because no one does everything your way
So stop telling me what to do, how to look, who to be
The only one who gets to decide is me.
I’m rolling on that crimson color ,
And doing my hair,
Watch me walk away with my middle finger in the air.
I attempt to limit the amount of feminist rants on this blog, simply because you guys don’t all come here for that kind of thing. But that doesn’t mean I won’t do it a bit, seeing as feminism is a huge part of my life. I’m not going to apologize for it, but if it isn’t your cup of tea, that’s okay, just skip this one and wait for the next.
Girl after my own heart
There is something strange about taking summer classes. I am in a three week course at the moment, and although it is pretty interesting it gives me a weird feeling. It feels like summer for sure because I have so much more time on my hands at night, but it also feels like summer hasn’t come because I am still going to the University every day.
Summer classes also feel weird because the campus is totally empty yet I am still attending class. I find myself desperate for the end despite the relative shortness of the class. I just want my summer vacation to feel real. I don’t want to forget about my homework or leave work to sit in a freezing cold classroom for two hours.
Mostly I hope that I have figured some things out by the end of this class. It is presenting a possible career choice for me but I have no idea if things will pan out or not. If I like it, then my career path and plans just became much less stressful. If I dont’ like it, then I have to stop thinking along those lines and figure out a new idea for my life. Neither of these options is bad or good, but I won’t know how I feel until the class is over. The anticipation is killing me. But don’t you worry too much because I have survived as a worrywart for long enough to know that it will pass.
Regardless, summer school gives me the strangest feeling of contradiction. Maybe I’m just thinking too much. Too bad I can’t help it. I live like an analyst, so sue me.
The times when I notice that I have a collector’s personality is when I want to buy products. Recent example: I like matte lipstick and want some, but that means I need a comprehensive set of useful colors for preparedness. But that costs money. And that my friends, is my dilemma for today. I know, it’s quite important.
Oh, summer you’re here
Hot days, sunshine, frolicking
Too bad I’m working