My Christmas tree expresses my eclectic style. It may not have parallel rows of perfect garland, a complimentary color scheme, velvet bows, or hand-blown glass ornaments, but it's mine and I love it. I know there are many critics out there that would tear my big, fat Noble Fir apart, branch by branch. I'd hear how ghetto it looks, how mismatched and poor white trash the ornaments are, that it is out of balance and has no flow. They'd be right, but that is definitely not the point. The fact is, I like it that way. It's my house, my tree, my mishmosh of ornaments from Christmases past, and it suits ME. But the "experts" would tell me that I need a theme, a color scheme, less is more. No, more is more, and I LOVE more. Growing up, we'd call it a Puerto Rican tree, and don't get all fucking offended by that comment. All it meant was that it was sufficiently ornate to suit the holiday. If you grew up in Queens, you'd know exactly what I mean. Those people knew how to throw down when it came to decorating! If I called my tree by that particular nationality, I was bestowing upon it the greatest possible compliment.
Splenda is God's greatest creation next to the coffee bean. Don't tell me about the cancer it causes in lab rats, or how it isn't organic, causes migraines and weight gain. Even if I tell you I love the thrill of taking risks with my health, you'll still shake your head and admonish my choice to pour not one but two packets into my multiple cups of joe per day. Here are the facts as I see them. I am a human, not a rat. The amount they inject into rats at one time is more than I could ingest in a month, and they are tiny little fuckers. I have other cancers in my gene pool that scare me a helluva lot more than my artificial sweetener ever could. Migraines scare me even less. I've been getting them since I turned 23 and frankly, it sure as hell isn't because I used Splenda, it wasn't invented back then! Weight gain is caused by the inability to put the fork down, plain and simple. Any pounds I pack on are done solely by me and my yo-yo weight issues and intense love affair with food. But thanks for the unwanted advice about what goes into my body.
There are those who find my musical tastes to be less than appealing. My own husband will get into the car with me and immediately change the station because my groove is not his style. He uses other words to describe it, but I won't share those with you. I don't care if you think I'm not PC, but just because I allow you to judge my expressiveness doesn't mean I won't cut a bitch if you criticize him. Maybe I am stuck in the past musically, maybe it's because today's music sucks giant hairy balls. I really enjoy SiriusXM satellite because I can stay in the decades I enjoy and not have to scan the whole fucking dial to find a suitable song for driving. The 40s-80s are where I tend to hover, mixing in old alternative/punk, classic rock, reggae and ska, show tunes, Sinatra and Martin, and a few of today's country artists, specifically Toby Keith. And yeah, I do love me some Josh Groban.
Eclectic doesn't begin to describe what I listen to on any given day, but I love it all and couldn't delete one of them from my repertoire. People will say that you have to listen to the music from the era you are living in, although I cannot imagine why! If you actually enjoy the sound of voices that have been auto-tuned, then you are tone deaf and couldn't possibly appreciate the melodic sounds coming out of the mouths of Billy Eckstine or Etta James. At this point, you are wondering if I am really 41 and not actually 81. Go fuck yourself sideways. Some of you swear by one and only one genre of music. That doesn't mean that all the others suck. What it does mean is that you are narrow-minded, not the musical genius you believe yourself to be. Playing air guitar along with Led Zeppelin doesn't qualify you to start a band, nor does it make you an expert on all things rock. I say rock out to whatever you like, and I'll do the same. If you don't like it, plug your fucking ears.
Oh my God, how can you possibly drive that foreign gas guzzler?! It's so bad for the environment and you are feeding overseas oil companies and it's just..just..bad. Are you serious? If you want to drive a Prius, which my daughter has told me, for her would be social suicide, go right ahead, nerdsack. People choose the cars they drive for all different reasons, none being more valid than the other. But don't presume to tell me that my choice is wrong. Wrong for who? For you? I don't care if you disagree with what I've chosen to drive, I happen to love both our vehicles. Yes, our cars are Japanese, and yes, it costs an arm and a leg to gas those bitches up every week. SO? And while you are plodding along in your little Hyundai shitmobile, I am cruising in luxury, listening to my awesome tunes. You can do your part for the environment and I will turn on my seat warmer and pump up my lumbar support in my Earth-unfriendly crossover SUVs. I don't tell you to buy a real car and stop being such a fucking douchebag, don't tell me to trade in the Lexus for a Leaf.
Everyone is entitled to an opinion. You are even welcome to share it once in a while. But don't expect that I'll listen to you. Opinions aren't facts, they are just something you happen to believe today. Tomorrow is a different story. We all do things for different reasons, whether it's because we've always done it that way, our moms did it that way and it's what we are comfortable with, it's easier, we've extensively researched it, or because we just feel like it. The point is, it's our way, not yours, and you have no right to try to change it because you don't agree or think you are better than us. You are definitely not better than me. I told you earlier, we all have our own degrees of awesome, and I happen to have a surplus. Perfection is not an accident, nor is attainable so don't think you are fooling anyone. Are you friggin kidding me right now???
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