Sunday, February 15, 2009

This One Night..

It's funny what you don't realize people think of you until stray comments waft your way. And growing up, I’ve heard them all. I didn’t grow up super rich and fabulous – both of my parents worked (hard) and life was what it was.

And the thing is..I make it a point to be extra cautious about what I say and how I say it. I hate being categorized as a snob – which of course, I usually am. I don’t talk about what I have, what I buy, what I make. Key rule to keeping friends, I think.

Tonight we went out to a new lounge a friend of ours opened – it was beautiful. Low key, but inviting. The music was great, the drinks were out of control, and the atmosphere was kind of like a clip out of Gossip Girl.

Sometimes, so are the people.

While sitting around a small table, usual chatter began. Valentine’s gifts, dates, dinners, yada yada.

So there’s always the token snob – the one who hangs around with you and your friends..but she never really is one of you. She’s the one who looks down on everyone and everything – the one who doesn’t acknowledge that her boyfriend cheats and that him buying Christian Louboutin shoes and Chloe bags does not and will not make up for that. Having things does not equate happiness – it does not mask misery and it does not improve your discontentment any. At least..that’s how I feel.

Her comments are always intended to be cutting. It's like..hurting people by insulting them is what makes her feel good.

So..she asked where I got my dress. After weeks of hunting, I found my dress on sale at Macys for $40. Now..would I ever tell her how much? No. I know better. To me, it was all about finding the dress with the perfect fit - not the perfect name on it. She examined it and gave it SEVERAL once overs. And finally concluded it was nice for me. Translation? She'd never be caught dead in it. LOL

And I'm okay with that because future plastic surgeoned trophy wife/mistress isn't the look I ever want to go for. I'm just saying.

And sometimes, people need to be shut up.

It's wrong, but it's true. Sometimes, you need to lay it out there and if it cuts them back, so be it.

She stuck out her big dumbo ears and showed off a very beautiful pair of diamond earrings from Tiffany's and told me that if I preferred better things in life, I needed to trade up because poor men can't give you the best things in life. For someone who comes from money, I should go for a Jaguar instead of a Toyota.

What..the fuck? She said..Toyota.

And maybe it was the alcohol. But maybe not.

And I said it all.

The only way being with a fat, balding, mid-life crisis age man who cheats on me with ANYTHING in a skirt and then sends his assistant to buy my jewelry to compensate for his infidelity and lack of comittment is considered trading if she had somehow re-written the definition of trading up. And maybe I did come from money, but I wasn't raised with a warped view of myself - I wasn't raised to be defined by the things I own.

And there was silence in the noise.

Her answer..was....

Not everyone can live a perfect life like you. Some of us have to take what we get.

And then it dawned on me. She was bitter.

My life is not perfect. Far from it.

From outside of the window, I guess that's how it looks. I have a great Toyota (more like a Lamborghini to me!), I have an amazing apartment, great family and friends, and my shoe and handbag collection is to die for.

But come inside. See that I work too much. I sleep too little. I'm a mess when it comes down to it. I duck phone calls from friends because I'm in a nasty mood. I bite my lip until it bleeds four times a week and cover it with pink lip gloss. My hair periodically falls out from stress. I suffer panic attacks in the middle of the night.

My life is not perfect. *I* am not perfect.

So I hand her a $20 and tell her to go buy a clue. Life isn't about what you have, it's about who you are. And that Marc Jacobs bag? It won't be in style in six weeks. Then what? She left - doubt we'll be speaking any time soon.

This was too long and I'm rambling now.

Just angry, I guess..that people can know you..but never KNOW you.

So before you envy someone..walk in their shoes first and see if it's really all you think it is.

Despite it all, though..I had a great time. And when we danced T.I.'s "Live Your Life", I never sang Rihanna's part louder than tonight.

Maybe that is what it's all about.

Just live your life, baby.


1 comment:

Parker said...

Ms.Blissfulness, first of all that new happy snappy of you in the header has to go. You are wanted. I will take you as I know many others would.

I know how you mean about others looking in through the windows of our lives. I have friends that think since I am single and live alone I have a perfect life. Fact is, if I did have a perfect life I never would have met you and my real life would be less filling as I never would of had a reason to find Second Life.

Truth be known I envy things about my friends and their lives but never look at them as having perfect lives. In you I wish I could say what what I truly feel to others. I just don't think (certain people especially) people could really understand how I feel about them and being around them. So I smile and be chipper and we all have fun.

Anyway, you can show off your shoes whenever you want. I live vicariously though you since I will not be able to wear high heels anymore. I do so love pretty shoes.