About that last post

People are dumb. I shouldn't be a surprise to anyone, but people are also incredibly insensitive. What is it with people that makes them think that just because I once lived in the same neighborhood as them they know me. You don't know me. Frankly, most of you will never know me. I am not a touchy feely person who is going to open up about my deepest darkest secrets just because you acknowledged my presence. So you live next door or across the street, that doesn't give you free access to me.

I hate these kind of people. You know, the people who "love you" too much. Who just want to be "your friend". These are the people who stand out in their yard, or in the hallway after church and pass the latest gossip around. These are the people who give hugs every time they see each other and squeal over things like how "totally cute" your new shoes are. I don't need you to validate my latest shoe purchase! I liked them, whether you like them too is completely irrelevant to me. In fact the idea that you honestly like them gives me pause and the worry that I should reconsider my purchase. My brother once referred to these people as the "beautiful people". These are the former cheerleaders/ dance company participants/ aspiring interior decorators of the world. And they totally piss me off. These are the women who go to restaurants and order salads and drink water with a slice of lemon. These are the women who spend so much time trying to convince everyone, including themselves, that they are the perfect wife, mother, etc. All the while they secretly hate their husband and wish they had something better to do than their hair. These are the people who would never even consider the "D" word no matter how miserable their marriage. After all...what would people think!!!

I will never like these people. I will never be able to be friends with these people, because guess what? I am divorced! (gasp) My husband has been divorced twice! (oh dear lord in heaven above) I do not have a single piece of "fruffy decor" in my entire home. I have dragons in my kitchen and I LOVE IT. Most of them are mine, not my husbands. I wear big stompy boots on occasion. My kids are messy (meaning - normal), my house is often messy. I swear...a lot. When I go out to eat, I order food...actual food...with like food in it and stuff. I drink diet soda...a lot of diet soda. Mostly because it keeps me from drinking other things that are much more offensive to these people's delicate sensitivities. I don't care what is happening in so-and-so's life. If so-and-so wants me to know about their life, they can come talk to me about it.
I don't pretend that everything is perfect. I work outside the home. I am not a stay at home mom. I wish I was. I wish I could stay home and just take care of my kids. But life sucks and bills must be paid...so I work. My husbands entire wardrobe consists of black. He wears a skull ring and leather wrist bands, occasionally adorned with spikes. He is also the most amazing person I have ever known and one of the most spiritual people I have ever known...so suck it! A white shirt and return missionary papers does not a spiritual giant make...just so you know.

In short...I am a real person. I have scars and battle wounds. They make me interesting. And if you could stop trying so hard to be my BFF, and let your perfectly done hair down a little, you might become interesting too. Until then, you are just a facade sweet heart. Go play with your friends and leave me the hell alone.