Why I Don't Care if You Think I'm a Teen Mom High-School Dropout

(This entry would make more sense if I explained that it was written last Wednesday, a day that I had to myself thanks to not having a 5th period exam. I just procrastinated with transferring here, from the back of folded up study guides.) 

I am trying my hardest to embrace and utilize today, since I am spending it with myself and whatnot. 

This morning, after taking Ryann to school, I went to Super Target. I zipped into a front space, Turned off the car (despite the fact that I was into this particular segment on NPR Morning Edition), shrugged at the fact that the parking lot was virtually empty, and skipped into the store to buy my sister's talent show costumes. Pausing only momentarily to jump over one of the red concrete balls in the front of the store, because it's 9 in the morning and I'm virtually always that annoying peppy at 9 in the morning.

Beginning to clue in to the slight oddity of my situation, I felt that I really needed to justify myself and casually explain my motives to the only other person in the kids section; a hefty woman in a red employee polo and a floor length khaki skirt, mundanely refolding hot pink Disney Channel teeshirts.

In my mind our conversation went something like this:

Me: "Do you know where I can find dance tights? For 10 year olds. Because that's how old my sister is. 10. A pair for her friend too, who is also not my child. I feel like I'm being so productive on my off day. It's an off day because I don't have a 5th period exam. Not because i'm skipping, or a drop out."

Her: "Don't try to defend yourself to me, You  Don't they have MTV shows for kids like you? And put something else on. Leggings aren't pants."

Me: "They're jogging capris!"

In her mind our conversation went something like this:

Me: "blah blah its 9 in the morning and I'm one of those go-to power people. blah blah blah Latte blah blah blah AP class blah blah blah"

Her: *punch in jaw*

In reality our conversation would have went something like this:

Me: "excuse me ma'am I know it's early but do you have any- "

Her: "Training bras are 3 racks over."

None of these conversations actually ever happened, but that is beside the point. 

One of my biggest pet peeves is when people overact their personalities in an attempt to cover up their insecurities in public. For some reason a lot of people do this (me), which is odd because it's stupid, ineffective, and makes you looks insane. What people (me) fail to realize is the mass public doesn't care enough about you (me) to have a prior opinion of you (me), they (khaki skirt woman) will probably just remember you (me) as the person who made themselves look like a jackass in the middle of Target.

A now bored, paranoid, and slightly hungrier version of my earlier peppy self wondered downtown in search of something to kill time. Unfortunately (due to my earliness yet again) most stores were still closed. Therefore, I wound up at the outdoor patio of a local bakery. A half eaten blueberry turnover on a styrofoam plate doubled as my excuse for sitting alone and people watching. 

Wait. Didn't I just tell you not to try and justify the mass public's opinion of you? 

No one cares whether or not I people watch.  Who do I think I am? I'm not anyone to people who see me on the streets, so why should I waste time trying to convince myself that I'm the "thoughtful type", who leaves half a pastry on a plate. Or that I am not the type to ecstatically devote my time into helping my sister with a talent show dance... because I am not ashamed that I am the opposite of both. Upon realization, I ate the rest of my turnover.

 I finished giving myself that little "good for you, you're being yourself" pat on the back just in time to spot them. She was a bleached-blonde, urban chick with tattoo sleeves, Big sunglasses, and a trendy floral dress. He was a Zac brown/Zach Galifianakis looking dude, smoking a cigarette like a joint. Here I sat, feeling proud for  breaking through to myself; but they... in all of their gross and grungy glory, were the Real Deal. They appeared to wear the fact that society hates them like a badge, while I scurried to rewrite the thought. 

Or was this was their version of an insecure facade as well?

 Am I reading too much into this? 

Recently, my mom asked me why it was I thought people seek attention. I think it is fueled by insecurities. That's why Makeup, Nightclubs, and Bowflex exist. Often the most insecure people completely disregard the most important people in their lives, and focus on getting attention from and convincing unimportant people that they aren't a teen soccer mom, or that they are super grunge hipsters.

Dwell on it, my all-accepting individuals.