This is not a preventable disease. I learned it the hard way with my new-found purse addiction. Once totally convinced that designer handbags were a waste of hard-earned cash, I've done a total turn around. Hell, I've even passed this love to my daughter, who also owns MK purses and a wallet. I've achieved acceptance and added myself to the list of fools who will spend an asswad on a fucking pocketbook. This is also what separates me from you. The rest of you ass clowns will stand in judgement of others and never once notice that you are either AS guilty of the supposed crime or ABOUT to become as guilty. Those of you who swore up the left and down the right that your flip phone was sufficient and you already had a computer are the same people I've seen waiting in line for the new iPhone 5. Calling those of us with SmartPhones spoiled and wasteful. Accusing us of having an unhealthy need to be in touch with everyone every minute of every day and accessing the internet unnecessarily throughout the day. What is that you are doing on that iPhone you HAD to have the second it hit the market? I admit to being slightly obsessed with my phone and being absolutely, without a doubt unable to go back to a regular telephone-only cell phone.
Those of you glued to your phones while crossing the street and causing me to delight in scaring the living shit out of you by blaring my car's horn are the same people who mocked those of us who jumped on the SmartPhone bandwagon at the speed of sound. Just because we jumped on board before you and developed an intimate relationship with our phones before you, doesn't make you any less of a tool for doing the same goddamn thing. We did it without passing judgement. But don't for one minute think that we've forgotten all the shit you said about us and our phones. This is probably why we now mock you and your incessant phone checking as if you are expecting that all-important email from Jesus Christ. No one is THAT important, but I don't begrudge you that idiosyncrasy. Have at it. I understand how today's society has turned us into instant gratification whores. I don't deny that I have become one, to a degree. Type and scroll away, my friend. Do it with abandon, I won't judge.
People who pooh-pooh shopping at discount stores and consignment stores piss me off. Because, you know and I know, most of us are not independently wealthy and work hard for our money. Having been raised by one of the most frugal women on the planet, I learned early on that money did NOT grow on trees, nor was she made of money. I also learned how to bargain shop, use coupons, and embrace the clearance racks. Trust me, I never walked around town looking like nobody's child. Quite the contrary, you'd have thought we were rolling in dough to look at me. My closet was bursting with clothing, as were my dressers and the additional set of shelves we bought and the very fashionable clothing rack I also had in my room. You'd never know that I actually did grow up fairly poor. I envied those who had more than one pair of designer jeans and Reebok sneakers. We couldn't afford that luxury.
Back to those who laugh at smart shoppers such as myself. I personally know a couple who would swear by the old saw, "You get what you pay for" and would never buy something that didn't have a name attached. Even food, for Christ's sake! No generic canned vegetables in that house, no sir. Fancy names equaled quality to these folks. Not knowing that many manufacturers package under multiple names, some for the wealthier consumer and some for the rest of us. Red Gold Tomatoes, which operates in Indiana, cans under the name Tutto Rosso and ships it to the East Coast for the discriminating Italians who have no clue it's the same as the can of Redpack, Red Gold, or Sacramento other folks buy because it's the same fucking company. I was one of those discriminating Italians. However, I did not subscribe to the whole "give me name brands or give me death" way of thinking. I seriously thought the Tutto Rosso tasted the best.
Fast forward to today, the same people who turned their nose up at my bargain shopping are now frequenting the same types of stores that I do, avoiding the phone for fear of bill collectors making actual contact. Living above your means because you think being a snob makes you better than everyone else only serves to make you one thing, broke. It's my turn to laugh and laugh I will. We are the same under the skin and what you purchase doesn't change your DNA. And, in case you didn't know, most of us were born with pretty average, blue collar DNA. I was and I am not ashamed to admit it. Fuck all of you who look down your noses at me, pitying my sad upbringing and unfortunate gene pool. I wouldn't be the person I am without it.
Facebook seems to figure prominently in my writing, today is no different. I jumped on that train when it first left the station, enjoying the ability to reconnect with people I hadn't even thought about in years. Joking around, sharing photos, and discussing the events of the day via stati and comments were light-hearted and interesting ways to spend a little time on the internet. As much as I love Googling random shit that pops into my head, actual communication was definitely nosing ahead of that pastime. This little hobby subject me to a bit of mockery and ridicule from friends who didn't quite share this new interest of mine. Thinking they were just a bunch of old farts who couldn't wrap their ancient heads around a new and exciting concept, I ignored it. The snarky comments continued, asking why anyone would want to announce what they were drinking, eating, seeing, or where they were or where they were going, or their plans for the day, complete with an accompanying photo montage. It's called SOCIAL media for a reason, but that logic fell on deaf, sarcastic ears.
Years later, one person in particular turned an unusual corner and became a person very different from the one who teased me mercilessly about my love for Facebook. Now, each day I am privy to the minutiae of her life, the food she ingests, the libations she consumes, the places she travels within the course of any given day, and barfy and nauseating commentary on her extremely immature love life....complete with photo montage. Imagine my surprise and horror at witnessing this transformation right on my laptop! Could it be? The very thing that caused me to be picked on a few years ago was now perfectly acceptable? Did the fact that her new boyfriend spent what seemed to be at least 15 hours per day on Facebook have anything to do with her change of heart? This type of douchebaggery has not gone unnoticed. Others have seen the same weird ass alien-like morphing and are all summarily disgusted.
My point is, and yes, I do have one, that people should be allowed to rock their individuality without fear of ridicule and taunting by those closest to them. We all have our quirks, oddities, and opinions. We are entitled to all of them. Besides, opinions tend to change over time and the thing you shunned five years ago may be your absolute favorite item of all time today. If you capped on that item five years ago, loudly and publicly, you now look like the biggest douche bag on two feet. Employing a live and let live attitude should be a requirement for being a member of the human race. Not one of us is just like the other, and that self changes over the course of a lifetime. Do your high-falutin' preferences make you better than people like me? Do your champagne tastes while carrying a beer pocketbook create a being more superior to me? Are you friggin kidding me right now???
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