Friday, June 1, 2007

You Wanna Meet the Real Me?

I am in the mood for some shenanigans. I have been on some good behavior since I graduated, and I'm starting to get that itchiness that makes the trouble-causing start. I'm having the wicked thoughts and brilliantly evil ideas and general deviousness is afoot, ladies and gentlemen. So if you are down for some shenanigans, drunken or otherwise, you might want to be hanging out with me in the near future. My neurons, they are a-firing, my brain, it is a-scheming.
People always see me as the good girl, but those of you who have known me for a while (Hi Terra) know that this is so far off base as to be laughable. I am so the girl that says or does the shit that you only think in your head. And if you dare me? Oh, it is ON, bitches. I grew up with some hooligans and some crazy motherfuckers. I can roll out the badasserey like you would not believe. This only comes out in tidbits nowadays, being that I'm older and wiser. Things like walking across campus with Sierra and hearing children chanting some children song, and then hearing them bust out with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and turning around and screaming "IT"S AUGUST!" at said children. They shut the hell up though. Don't tell me you've never wanted to do that. I know you have. Difference is that I will actually do it.
Ever since I was little, I've been that kind of girl. When I was about four years old, maybe five, we lived two houses away from this woman who had those cute little chickens with the feathers on their feet. Like this:
And so my little four-year-old-self went all the way to the back of our acre backyard, to the very end of
The Aqueduct of Doom, and through the fence into our neighbors yard. I then went across their acre back yard and climbed the fence into the next neighbors yard. One of those adorable chickens was running around, so I picked it up and took it home. When I got home, Mama asked me where I got the chicken, and I totally lied and said that the neighbor gave it to me. That is how I roll. She made me take it back, but the point is I was chicken-napping before I went to school.
The odd thing is that as I approached teenage-hood, I became increasingly shy. In sixth grade, I only talked to one person in my class. I knew everyone, everyone knew me, but as far as actual friends, I only had one. Junior High was just basically two years of really painful awkwardness, pretty much the score for everyone. I had the opportunity to change myself and I did, but I was so concerned with what other people thought of me that I didn't actually change into what I wanted to be, what I saw myself as. And at the end of those two years, I was once again without friends, this time not even the one.
I lucked out though. The way that the district was set up, I ended up going to a different high school than all but four people from my junior high. So once again I had the opportunity to change who I was. That time I did it mostly right. I was still concerned about how I was perceived, but in a different way. I wanted to make sure that people knew who I really was, what I was really about. So I started to speak my mind. And the most amazing thing happened. People respected me. Sure, some people didn't like me, but they still respected me. From that, I gained courage. I spoke out more, I dared more. And I really found out a lot about myself. It was hard, and I made some enemies, but I became myself in the process. I learned that fear was holding me back from doing a lot of things. I learned to conquer that fear often meant that I would achieve something or experience something that would make the fear just totally fade out of the picture.
So if you have something that fear has kept you from doing, for whatever reason, and you are ready to give it a try, I'm so your girl. Hell, I've probably already done it. And if not, I sure as hell want to try!


Anonymous said...

CHIGGINS! I love chiggins... you know, I actually get a chiggin catalog that you can order all sorts of chiggins from, so I can dream about all the future chiggins I will own. If you should like to look at chiggins and be insane like me, the site is called McMurray Hatchery. And I call them "chiggins" because I realised that's how I pronounce the word.
~your crazy mildly intoxicated friend Ashley

Raconteur Extraordinaire said...

I hope the IV party scene and me drinking out of the bottle was some good shenanagins. I had a fantabulous time and not just for the robbing the cradle thing.

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