04 December 2008

Tired

I live in Florida. Bright, sunny, rainy at times, Florida. Our biggest export is oranges, and the news more then often will display some sort of horrifyingly bizarre story involving alligators/opossums/wild boars in someone's driveway/backyard/swimming pool. We are home to a dazzling array of tourist attractions, such as Disney World, Downtown Disney, and Epcot. Good old Florida, public transportation does not exist and where you can travel from mini city to desolate country wasteland in .5 seconds. I really love my state.

What makes me love Florida even more is that I (somewhat willingly) chose to attend university here. 20 minutes south of my northern hick abode, if you will. I attend a school where every douchebag from the northeast frequents, driving daddy's bmw's having at minimum 3 trust funds and a summer house in the Hamptons. I fit like a glove. A bedazzled one among a sea of Coach lovers, if you want to get complicated.

What bothers me most about my overprivileged counterparts is their failure to accept that we, in fact, live in the South. This is not the tundra you flew down on your private silver bird, but rather a "tropical" paradise, at least how the pamphlets sell it. I can wear flip flops 340 days out of the year, because chances are that other 25 will be spent in something that looks like it could be a coat. 

I will never accept your uniform, my orange (but it's natural) skinned friends. Your Northface/Uggs/Coach bags with matching Victoria's Secret Pink sweatpants, with your face overly done in makeup with your hair also perfect coifed. Was it so hard to put on jeans, so hard to not put your pajamas back on after you've already groomed yourself for your daily to do? It is your indifference to life that makes me so very, very confused.

Now, maybe I am a snob. Correction, I am a snob when it comes to clothes. But i have good reason. I have spent a considerable amount of my own hard earned money (Thank you Toys R Us) on what I believe to be a decent wardrobe (prove me wrong). I thrift, I accept hand me downs, I alter what i can. I know that when I go outside in my sweatpants, someone's judging me. You can't help it. And I have a complex. 

I still see no reason to accept you college girls. Look across any campus in America and you will see exactly what I mean. EVERYONE IS THE SAME. And what a scary thought that is for the "individualists" i.e the mildly trendy people trying not to get on the "Thirsty Thursday" party bus.

1 comment:

Mike Johnson said...

after re-reading this, i think you were a bit inspired by joel mchale in the audrina bowling video i sent you...