I Don't Like People

Warning: this is a totally bitchy but honest post. If you hate honesty and love flowers and rainbows, please do not read on. If you do read on, I warned you.

I do not like most people. Plain and simple. I think most people are fake and afraid, and are mean to others because they don’t want to do the hard work necessary to be a good and positive individual. Now, I’m not always positive, as shown in this here post. But for the most part I am compassionate and kind. Those whom I don’t care for, I just choose to stay away from. If I come across them I politely ignore them. Now, I didn’t used to. I used to cause them grave bodily injury. What a waste of time and energy.

I am extremely blessed to be surrounded by some extraordinary people. None are perfect, but all are beautifully flawed in a way that makes me love them all the more. I have rich friends, I have poor friends, I have chubby friends, I have teeny friends, I have loud friends, and I have quiet friends. The one thing they all have in common is that they are GOOD.

I used to feel great sorrow for people who didn’t like themselves and projected that on to others. I would take them in like captain save a ho. I thought that maybe if they had a good friend in their lives, it would help them to see their self worth, and they would stop being so cuntish. This never worked. You can’t change or help others. People really have to reflect and change themselves. I find this generally happens through a dramatic event in life, or just one day they wake up and realize they are not the person they want to be. Never has a person had someone say, “Oh man, you need to change this” and miraculously changed said behavior/personality trait. It comes from within.

I would never try and change another human being. I think that’s the problem with a lot of relationships, be they friendships or romantic. If you can’t accept and love a person’s flaws, then let them go. The one flaw that Rich has that I can’t abide by is him showing up late or his lack of being prepared. And I guarantee you if this wasn’t something he had mentioned he was working on before I even brought it up, I wouldn’t be with him. I am being way more patient with him than I am with most people, because I know he is really trying to work on it. And to be perfectly honest, there is just SO MUCH good in him. So much that I love about him, that it’s something I am willing to try and set aside and accept until he works it out and realizes if it’s even something he CAN fix. Sometimes behaviors are so ingrained in a person’s personality, it’s not going anywhere. And that’s totally okay.

There are people I see out and about with their fake name brand purses and sunglasses, and I brutally make fun of them. It’s my personality flaw that I know isn’t going anywhere: I make fun of people. And you know what? I don’t feel bad about it. I’m sure when I wear my baby blue Huggy Bear pimp coat, people are making fun of me, and I accept that. I just really hope that what they are saying is amusing. There is nothing worse than someone making fun of someone else, yet it is a huge comedy fail. I actually like when friends make fun of me to my face, and it’s so damn good I can’t even come back with something devastating, ‘cause I’m too busy laughing at what they just said. Like when I was commenting about how I had some pimples on my rear and how gross it was and Rich said, “Yeah, I’m glad most those things are gone. Those are nasty.” I mean, simple observation. And I laughed for like 5 minutes before I said, “Hey, that’s not right! I don’t make fun of your man fur!” Then I quickly realized I DO make fun of his human bear traits, and I shut right up. Just for the record, I never found hairy men attractive. But I love this man so much that his hair is actually adorable to me. It really is. When I find one of his curly cues in bed, before I get disgusted and throw it away, I actually get a little half smile because I think, “Aww, Rich left a hair in my bed.” (Shut up. I know it’s disgusting. I’ve got it bad and I am not ashamed. I adore this man. He is the first person in many years that makes me feel special. I can actually feel his adoration without him saying a word. It’s nice, and I totally realize how lucky I am).

Wait, this was supposed to be an uber mean post! Do I not have mean in me anymore? I totally started this with the intention of being downright bitchy. Bitch fail. Oh well. I guess if there’s something you’re going to fail at, failing at being a bitch is the one to go with.

Picture of the day: me being smarmy. I took this when I was in San Diego. I sent it to Rich so he would miss me. It worked. Notice the classy shirt. I was born in '74 and always wanted the shirt since it says "Hardcore since '74" so I bought myself one at the Hustler store in San Diego. And I think if it's possible to make the duck face, without actually making the duck face, I'm doing so in this picture.