Small Towns...

I love the little town I grew up in. I love a great many people there. There is a necessary interconnection of the town (I was harsh and edited,I'm sorry) I went to high school in which I shall refer to as Hell. (It goes without saying that Dems are as rare as non-hypocrites). As with all small towns there is gossip. Like Mrs. Olsen on Little House on the Prairie only there are not just one and they aren't old. But they are still mean-spirited, petty, people with no life. Making themselves feel better by tearing at others. They really suck. They are really stupid. And I'd wager my house they voted for Sarah Palin. See? That right there proves they're stupid. (This was not a direct attack on anyone. If you have read any of this blog other than this post, I REALLY dislike Sarah Palin and I REALLY campaigned hard for Obama. And I mean the real thing, knocking on doors, making calls, dealing with the campaign managers of neighboring states who kept a close eye on where it was unsafe for a white woman to campaign for a black man. I had my list pulled more than once.)

I won't flatter myself by assuming that they read my blog, but on the off chance that they are desperate for dirt. Yeah you found it. In the mirror.

**I think I may have either underestimated the amount of people who read my blog, or who looks at my, all of a sudden, hopping Facebook. I started my blog out a bit harshly and I think it may have been misconstrued. Also, the people who have always read my blog know that I have been angry and frustrated through a long campaign and I vent here so no one else has to hear it, unless they want to.) I think the most perfect place on earth was the town I grew up in. I had the best friends growing up. I will not mention names, but the one that I really, really, love and owe an eternal debt of gratitude for was my very best friend from the age of 4. We loved each other, we fought, we caught frogs, she taught me how to ice skate on the frog pond (yeah bad idea), she was unflinchingly loyal and had the courage of a lion. I want no misunderstanding here, I can never express how much I love her and owe her for her part of my childhood. Our frendship was legendary as was recently pointed out on my Facebook by a classmate. I would be there for her in a heartbeat if she needed me for anything just as she has been for me and I always will. She is my family, her family is my family.
I had another very good friend that was one of my BFFs. We played for hours and never got bored we made some crazy mud pie restaurant along with a song advertising it to the tune of "King of the Road." We had an uncle that was published and we KNEW he'd be astounded at the talent of our song. We gave him a hastily scrawled copy of the song and waited for the glossy publication. When we were handed a photocopy of our song as we had written it with an addition of a poem that did not capture the glory of our restaurant, we looked like Ralphy after he'd been told by Santa that he's shoot his eye out. She also knows the definition of a Gwashy, which is anything that can fit into the pendant part of a necklace. That is pretty much everything because their could be a giant cosmic necklace and we live in the gwashy.
Time has passed in my hometown and I'm an outsider, so to speak. The people who live there are young and only a few grew up with me. My memories never change, they are fond. I hate the town I went to school in. It WAS hell for me. It accentuated everything that sucked about me. I know other see it differently, but it's a matter of opinion. I love my friends there and occasionally run into them and am happy to. But my opinion of ME when I was there was very low and in a crucible sort of way it shaped me too. I was always happy to be back home.