Thursday, November 18, 2010

Class or Trash?

          Now, I don’t consider myself to be a sort of fancy, prissy lady who curls her hair and prides herself on her skills in the social graces, and I don’t adore perfect makeup and coifed hair. I like to go to parties; I prefer to not look as though I spent hours getting ready. I sometimes swear, I probably kiss too many boys, and I’m reckless far too often. In other words, I’m far from being a perfect lady. But there are some things I would never do.
          I think good manners are in my blood. I have been trained since I was little to have respect, but speak your mind. Have a voice, but make sure you aren’t too loud. Be charming and witty and courageous, but never vulgar or obscene. These are the lessons that have stayed with me my whole life thus far. But it never ceases to amaze me how these girls my age, my supposed peers, act in public.
Seriously. Getting wasted at parties, for example. Now, I’ve had my fair experiences of being intoxicated, drunk even. But even drunk, wasted me doesn’t even come close to some of these girls. When I’m drunk, I tend to gabber away and laugh a lot, teeter around and flirt a little (or a lot, who am I kidding) and overall have a good time. I don’t throw up, I never fall over, and I’m never hung-over the next morning. But these girls…if you could only see them. So drunk they are falling over and needing their friends to literally pull them up from the sticky, beer-soaked floor, falling all over guys (sloppy, drunk kisses are disgusting to witness, really), puking in kitchen sinks, and on one occasion one girl actually tackled me to the ground and stuck her tongue down my throat. Yep, this girl was kissing me like mad while I squirmed to escape. Ew. And I just don’t find that classy behavior. If everyone and their brother (literally) are getting free front-row tickets to a viewing of you lady bits, maybe you need to re-evaluate some life decisions.
           That’s an extreme example, of course. Friday nights and Saturday nights always tend to be extreme. But I’m talking about day-to-day life too. Take my old roommate for example: “fuck” is her favorite word to attach before any word in a sentence. I once counted how many times she used it in a three-sentence conversation that we had. She used it seven times. Seven. She wasn’t even mad or upset. Its just part of her vocabulary. And don’t even get me started on her conversations over the phone with her pseudo boyfriend-once she called him up at 3:00 in the afternoon and talked dirty to him for a good, solid hour. With me right in the room. At my desk. Doing homework. It was so gross and graphic I actually had to look up a couple times to see if she was joking around. But nope, there she was, perched on the futon, talking in strangely sterile, clean dirty talk. Like, she was using words that she probably got from her anatomy and physiology book. That sort of clean. Shudder . It was an interesting experience to witness to say the least.
           And there are about a million other things I could rant about. Being honest is one thing, being rude is another thing completely, and there is a fine line between honest and frank and outright rude. There’s something called an educated insult, which is far more refined that merely calling a girl a slut or mocking a physical trait of hers. A tip for all women: Never allow yourself to be in pictures when you are severely intoxicated. Unless you have an uncanny ability so smile sweetly, or keep your mouth closed for more then 10 seconds, avoid drunken party photos at all costs. My former roommate asked why I never had party photos on Facebook. And I told her it’s because I don’t want the world of facebook to see me drunk, as I tend to think it’s a little unprofessional and definitely not lady-like to have photos of yourself grinding up on a pole or every photo being with my mouth hanging open. And for the record, I don’t do either of those actions. She, on the other hand, has whole albums dedicated to the different parties she attends. Which is fine for her, I suppose. I just don’t find it to be particularly classy behavior.
          Right now, my nails are chipped, my eye makeup is a little smudged, and I’m wearing just a pair of leggings, some legwarmers, and a cropped sweatshirt. I'm sipping on hot cider, not Four Loko. I’m comfortable, casual, cozy, and thank God, still classy.

                                                 Compare and contrast these two pictures...

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