So I would like to start my first post by getting something off my chest.
When I was 8 years old, my parents made the decision to move to the good ol' US of A. I loved the idea of moving here, even though I didn't speak very much English. My mom told me it would be easy to learn and that we would go to Disneyland often, so I was sold on the idea. The thing is, before I even learned English, I already spoke Italian, understood french and was fluent in Portuguese, making English my fourth language. Practically a child genius.
I grew up with tutors and being corrected by my parents, which I don't really mind. I do mind, however, when a person who doesn't know anything about me (or bothers to find out) corrects me just so they can get a boner from it. Like cops, you just know that when they are pulling a person over they are totally pumped...literally. And that brings me to the "mystery" person I am talking about. Don't get me wrong, I like the guy. But seriously, out of the 4 times I have ever seen him in my life, he has corrected me about something at least twice in a 2-3 hour period. Ammon corrects me all the time, but he either makes me laugh about it first or he corrects me nicely, not with a "I know more than you, wah wah wah!" attitude. I know all of the three maybe four of you Reading this blog don't know me very well yet, but I promise I'm nice. I have been treated like shit by some totally awesome, much cooler than me people while growing up and I swore I would never make anyone feel the way I felt growing up.
OH I need to tell a quick story. There was this girl named Liesel in my 4th grade class that I immediately adored. Keep in mind I didn't speak any English at the time, which makes this story even cooler. So Liesel was da bomb, taught me all kinds of awesome new American words and played tag with me during recess. When we moved to the River bottoms, turned out the home girl lived right next to the place I took horseback riding lessons, total bonus. Anyway, I loved Liesel. She had really thick glasses, was about 3 feet taller than me, skinny...oh and who can forget that matted and oily hair? She was perfect. After I switched schools in 9th grade (that's when I made the choice to go to Meridian) we lost touch. Fast forward to last year when my momma was in town, we went to her super snotty friends' house. My mom tells me that "C" is Liesel's uncle. "C" is my mom's friend's husband. So I start freaking out, asking about her and everything, and "C" told me Liesel had committed suicide a few months earlier. Liesel always struggled with depression and was teased the whole fucking day while we were at school. She was and IS so amazing, and she taught me to embrace my nerdyness and the people that are worth my time will embrace their nerdyness right along with me. Moral of this story: don't be a fucker to people. You are not better than anyone else because you are cuter or have more money. Your shit does stink.
xoxo