Monday, July 11, 2011
theres that defining moment
This weekend we had a fabulous party with great friends. We had a fire that was jumped through by teenagers who wanted to be there and music was played by neighbors who welcomed our little one into their tribe for a jam session that still has my heart singing. We were so lucky to have new friends come and add more fun to our party!
I woke up Sunday feeling blessed and alive! The cleaning, of course, was long and ridiculous. I have your sunglasses... and your clove cigars, which, truthfully, I am going to smoke. I still do that thing where I smoke when I drink and there are cigarettes around. So stupid... The cleaning was actually very good for my brain. I woke up before anyone else and had the chance to replay the evening in my head. There were some moments that bothered me. I was upset that someone at my party called me and my friends a "bunch of hippies". He peed in my frog pond, threw his butts in my yard... is there a name for that? Thinking back to anything I may have said or done to give this person cause to be disrespectful, I have to admit that I found something. I said that I thought people who drive caddilcas were douches. How fucking judgemental of me. It was a dumb thing to say, based on an earlier traffic occurance... I mouthed off in the car to myself, no big deal, but apparently I felt the need to say that to someone who actually drives a caddy.
Why can't I stop mouthing off? My whole life I have been in trouble for talking. I don't tell secrets, but I sure do seem to have enough opinion to never stop sharing. And, all over again, I'm that little girl in the desk in the hallway, worksheets in front of me, listening to class go on without her because she just can't shut the fuck up.
Funny to be talking about shutting up on as blog, where the whole idea is to share and put it out there... talk.
Then there's that little judgement problem. How dare this guy judge us as "hippies"? Really, just because we had music by a fire, good friends and laughter? I guess, he has as much right as I do to think he or anyone who drives a caddy a douche. And, really, I don't even think everyone who drives a caddy is a douche! Just that one guy who cut me off and smiled while he did it. And, now the meathead who came to my party and acted like an angry peakock. The thing is, I didn't even judge this guy based on his tight tshirt with bulging arms and goofy haircut. I was excited to meet my buddy's friend and it wasn't until he sucked down 8 coronas that the meathead came out.
So, did I judge unfairly? Because, as it tuned out, this guy was a total douche.
However, hippies, we are not. What is it with this generation that thinks hippies are anyone who doesn't dress like you?
HIPPIES: a person, especially of the late 1960s, who rejected established institutions and values and sought spontaneity, direct personal relations expressing love, and expanded consciousness, often expressed externally in the wearing of casual, folksy clothing and of beads, headbands, used garments, etc.
Were we at the same party?
This whole silliness didn't ruin my fun, and, infact reminded me that being who you are, no matter who loves or doesn't love you, is worth it.