2 years ago
Sunday, September 1, 2013
We didn't come from money
I've been just mildly obsessed with this song lately. Okay, the last month or so. At first, I was just enchanted by the totally delicious harmonies and really thought the lyrics were fairly meh, but the more I listen to it, the more I actually began to identify with it.
I also may have sang it at a little birthday karaoke fun last night and rocked it. Make of that what you will.
The other day, I found myself in a conversation with women I didn't know all that well and they were discussing how much they pay for their fabulous apartments and how worth it it all is and I just sat there with nothing to say, nothing to contribute, because I couldn't identify with these women in any way. I don't begrudge them their fabulous lives and I'm not envious of their fabulous lives; I just simply and truly could not relate.
I pay a fraction of what they do for my tiny little hovel and I have to work to make ends meet even then. But I'm oddly okay with that. I'm doing much better than anyone could probably have anticipated considering where I come from and I'm proud of how much I've done for myself.
Sure, would it have been nice to come from money? To have parents who paid for everything I wanted in life? I guess. That does sound lovely. But on the other hand, I have worked really hard and done some really cool things on my own. And that's pretty damn cool.
In a couple weeks, Eminem and I are moving in together, which is majorly exciting and nervous making and YAYchange! We found an insanely cute house to rent which is really a steal for the space and charm and HUGE yard we're getting. We will be paying a fraction of what many people pay for their wonderful houses and apartments in fabulous places, but that's just fine with us.
We have something better, something within our budget but still really cute and comfortable and (most important) with lots of privacy, because after years and years of apartment living, we cannot wait for the quiet that comes from not sharing ceilings and floors and walls with other people. We have a house! Once it's ours, I'll take some empty house photos for you all so you can see just how damn cute and also before I decorate the shit out of it. I already have tons of crafty plans for it and it's all nested in my head.
I guess my main point of all this is that people just live their lives how they can and so what? There's such a war waging in our culture over money. And rightfully so in lots of ways. But also, those who don't live in very certain ways, or who weren't born into money, are constantly vilified. And why? So those who have more can feel better about it? It's all luck.
Nobody chooses to be born into poverty and those who are born into wealth landed there by pure luck. I'm okay that I didn't come from money. Life wasn't as easy, isn't as easy, but it's mine. I've done it my way and made do and struggled and guess what? I'm okay!
And since I'm doing okay, I can work to speak for those who don't have anything. I can help where I can. I have a lot less than lots of people, but still a lot more than others. I think there's a certain advantage to that, to knowing what it's like to live on very little and therefore have a little understanding for those who still struggle.
This post wasn't meant to be so preachy; I just wanted to share that my life is good and even though we don't have all that much, we're still happy. Imagine that.
Before I leave you, I have to share that I posted two (TWO!) whole sets of new photos over at Double A Photography last week: Wilting Blooms and Little Buds. Here's a sample (Just click on the photos to see the full collections):
- Chicks who do it for me
- Lose Weight Fast with the Heartbreak Diet!
- Margaritas, Weed, and Slut Signals
- epic existential post just in time for that arbitrary changing of the calendar which I so love
- Public Service Announcement
- Horrifying Shit on Pinterest: Slut Shaming E-Cards
- Animal Monster Bird Squawk Dinosaur Creature
- Sexy Saturdays: Slutty Saturday
- My Doctors Always Suck, otherwise entitled Why I Hate Kaiser
- fishcunts and cum dumpsters