13 November 2007

Updated thoughts, not really stitchy

I looked through my high school yearbook last night and realized something funny. I grew up in a hick town. People pay half a million dollars for houses in this town because it's so "quaint" and "country"; do people seriously think that somewhere in the small towns of rural North America, people who have lived there all their lives are sitting on spindly furniture in muted colors, with primitive paintings on the wall? I'm not criticizing, I actually never realized how "country" I grew up til I opened the 1991 yearbook and realized that the senior float that year consisted of 6 or 7 seniors in someone's farm equipment (I think it was a backhoe, but I am not sure--we lived in town and my relatives didn't use fancy equipment).

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I do my thing and you do yours. I am not in this world to live up to your expectations, and you are not in this world to live up to mine. You are you and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, then it is beautiful. If not, it can’t be helped--Frederick Perls