Every time I wear my red plaid shirt people call me a free spirit. Every time I hear that I laugh out loud, A LOT. It's not that I don't mind being called that, it's just that never in a million years did I ever think that that term could ever be applied to me. Back in high school I used to be such a tight-ass (insert one of Warren's inappropriate sexual jokes). I seriously used to be such an elitist and judgmental BITCH that it's amazing that I had any friends at all. Of course I did come from a small, elitist New England town where many of the townspeople had sticks so far up their behinds it's amazing they were able to move at all without toppling over.
Growing up my house was not at all elitist or uptight. Maybe a little judgmental from all the Catholic guilt my mother carried around and forced upon us whenever she had the chance. And to be fair I think she was pressured into some of it by her church friends. It was like a competition between them, who can be more holy and to prove what good church goers they were they used to compete at getting to church the earliest and how many church related activities they could force their children in. My mother got sucked into it all and forgot her beach bum/ski bum roots in an effort to roll with the holy crowd. Now that I'm older, most of the overbearing church ladies have moved away and my mother is left with the genuine ones who aren't so preoccupied with being crazy and more with being good and kind people.
Lance was always chill though, a little crazy once I hit sixteen, but always chill and honest about life. He had no pretensions about anything or anyone. Of course it's his upbringing and he's disdain for totally stupid people that's made him the way he is, but he never let the crazy parts of Stowe get to him and turn him into the ugliness that a lot of his 1980s fellow ski bums have become. He's even done his best to reign in my mother's crazy bits and keep the household relatively sane. It hasn't been the easiest time for him with all the estrogen floating in the air. There's really only so much you can do with a religious zealot, a moody uptight teenager, and a naive sheep. He did his best though and eventually it's started to rub off.
I tell people that I'm going through my "Lance phase" in life right now. I've given up caring about the nit picky stuff, I do what I want without hurting too many people, I try not to be a burden on society, I only hang out in quiet/dive bars, I drink gin like it's my job, and I indulge in the greener things in life every now and again (not as much as the family men, but I'm catching up at my own pace). I was essentially raised by my dad so it's fair to say that at some point I would just want to pick everything up and Chris McCandless it across the country or jump off a cliff without a parachute. Of course I don't think I want to marry before I'm thirty or drive a van with shag carpeting.
I'm not sure when the move from "uptight" to "free spirit" happened or why I'm always wearing the same shirt when it happens, but it's been going on for a couple of years now and I'm starting to grow into it and like it more and more. I've become more spontaneous, dropping things to drive to ocean, take of into the night with friends, play baseball in the early morning hours on a basketball court, or hop museum fences. I used to think that I would have cookie cutter life, living on the East coast with a middle class cookie cutter husband with our two kids and dog (not cats). We would be clean, religious, and sterile. Now the thought of that makes me want to vomit. I'm ready to pack as much as I can into the Subaru and drive as far away from those ideas as I can get. I want to take off and live on a whim like Lance or even my mom (it's easy to forget that she was once cool too). I want to have Merrie tow me on a skate board down City Ave as fast I can go, skinned knees and broken arms be damned.
Growing up my house was not at all elitist or uptight. Maybe a little judgmental from all the Catholic guilt my mother carried around and forced upon us whenever she had the chance. And to be fair I think she was pressured into some of it by her church friends. It was like a competition between them, who can be more holy and to prove what good church goers they were they used to compete at getting to church the earliest and how many church related activities they could force their children in. My mother got sucked into it all and forgot her beach bum/ski bum roots in an effort to roll with the holy crowd. Now that I'm older, most of the overbearing church ladies have moved away and my mother is left with the genuine ones who aren't so preoccupied with being crazy and more with being good and kind people.
Lance was always chill though, a little crazy once I hit sixteen, but always chill and honest about life. He had no pretensions about anything or anyone. Of course it's his upbringing and he's disdain for totally stupid people that's made him the way he is, but he never let the crazy parts of Stowe get to him and turn him into the ugliness that a lot of his 1980s fellow ski bums have become. He's even done his best to reign in my mother's crazy bits and keep the household relatively sane. It hasn't been the easiest time for him with all the estrogen floating in the air. There's really only so much you can do with a religious zealot, a moody uptight teenager, and a naive sheep. He did his best though and eventually it's started to rub off.
I tell people that I'm going through my "Lance phase" in life right now. I've given up caring about the nit picky stuff, I do what I want without hurting too many people, I try not to be a burden on society, I only hang out in quiet/dive bars, I drink gin like it's my job, and I indulge in the greener things in life every now and again (not as much as the family men, but I'm catching up at my own pace). I was essentially raised by my dad so it's fair to say that at some point I would just want to pick everything up and Chris McCandless it across the country or jump off a cliff without a parachute. Of course I don't think I want to marry before I'm thirty or drive a van with shag carpeting.
I'm not sure when the move from "uptight" to "free spirit" happened or why I'm always wearing the same shirt when it happens, but it's been going on for a couple of years now and I'm starting to grow into it and like it more and more. I've become more spontaneous, dropping things to drive to ocean, take of into the night with friends, play baseball in the early morning hours on a basketball court, or hop museum fences. I used to think that I would have cookie cutter life, living on the East coast with a middle class cookie cutter husband with our two kids and dog (not cats). We would be clean, religious, and sterile. Now the thought of that makes me want to vomit. I'm ready to pack as much as I can into the Subaru and drive as far away from those ideas as I can get. I want to take off and live on a whim like Lance or even my mom (it's easy to forget that she was once cool too). I want to have Merrie tow me on a skate board down City Ave as fast I can go, skinned knees and broken arms be damned.
I also want to release these squirrels too.
