Valentine’s Day

What happened today was one of the best things that’s happened to me in … forever?

My step-sister moved out  of our downstairs built-in basement!! Which means I practically have the basement to myself now. They only thing I have to worry about is a few of my stepdad’s tools on the other side of the room in a corner. And he’s also building a wall between me and them, so I don’t have to look at them every day.

Autumn (stepsis)’s actual words: “I knew you were boring from the second I met you.” She spoke those to me about an hour ago when I explained to her that she will learn quickly, moving in here again with us, just how boring I am. How much I love my house, and my room — and why I like to stay there so much. I usually don’t let the bitch get to me, excuse the language, but this time just the way she said it made her sound like this little prick that just pissed me off. I gave her a look and said, “Yep, that’s me; and I’m a book nerd too, don’t forget that.” Then I laughed a little and added, “And you know what the difference is? I don’t care. At all; I couldn’t care less.” (about what she thought, was what I was saying). And she picked up on it.

The thing about Autumn is that she’s just a few pounds over 100 (not joking), and she’s 16; but she failed so she’s a grade lower than I am. But because she was “popular” in her school up north, and wears the latest Hollister fashion and has a different boyfriend every week, she thinks that she is “above” me. But she needs to realize, as I do, that she is far from above me. We are on equal playing fields just like everybody else — no one is better than anybody else.

I also wanted to explain to the prick that I stopped caring about what other people thought of me a long time ago. Long time ago. Every time I start getting self-conscious, or worried about how I am and how I’m not impressing other people, I mentally thump myself in the head and remember ‘Oh yeah! I don’t care!’  Literally. That is the thought that goes  through my head, and for some reason it’s a good enough reason for me to smile and lift my chin up, and carry through with whatever I was doing in the first place. I’ve done this with presentations to my classes, to speech for debates in Government; for interviews while I was playing the “Yearbook Staffer” role, or even when I was talking to guys. I no longer cared what someone else thought of me, therefore it allowed me more time to shape myself into what I wanted me to be, and stopped the useless shaping of what they wanted me to be. Because the world wants me to be perfect: and no one is ever going to be perfect. So why try?

And anyway, screwed up people are more fun. 99% of my friends, God bless you all, are abnormal, or funky, or groovy, or a bit crazy, or out of style, or act old/young for your age; whether you’re wise beyond your years, or still act like you’re in diapers: and I love them!!! Because they don’t have to stop every five minutes to check their mirror compact in vain to make sure their hair hasn’t fallen a degree out of place. I also feel much more comfortable with someone who doesn’t verbally degrade me about what I where or what type of people I hang out with. Because honestly that is my choice; and I love most of the people I do chose to be with. They are interesting, and most of you friends are hilarious because that’s a huge attraction factor, in relationships and friendships, for me.

I have surrounded myself with people who could care less about what brand I’m wearing, and care more about the words that are coming out of my mouth, and the plans that I have this Saturday. They don’t want to know how much money my parents make, they want to know if I can scrounge up a few bucks to be by their side at a music venue or a club. My friends are AMAZING; and to anyone who doesn’t agree or thinks I’m “less of a person” because I don’t get wasted every night and say “Y’alll” in every sentence, screw you. I don’t need you, I didn’t want you; if you can’t accept Amanda for Amanda…what good are you to my life?
Because if you look at it in the long run: what are these people going to mean to you in 6 months? A year? 30 years? They are barely a bump in the road of your life (sorry about the philosophy, but I must), a glitch that isn’t even significant enough to be registered. Their irritating little opinions will mean nothing to you, and I doubt most of us will even remember their names. Now my friends, my family, the people I love and who love me, the ones I would die for? Those are the people I am never going to forget.

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Nicole
    Feb 17, 2009 @ 05:29:21

    Amen to that.

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