An Open Letter

An open letter

As a teenager, this blog and the kind people who run the website which host this blog allowed me to spread my wings (or maybe just start publicly writing about things I was clueless about is more like it) into the adult world for the first time. As most of you who still read this website on a regular basis know, I stumbled over myself... A LOT. I was a walking, talking contradiction and maybe I still am. I blogged mainly about one topic in Mountain Home. It's still very controversial. This blog is not about that topic. Instead this is a reflection piece on Mountain Home, the time I've spent there and the time I've spent elsewhere.

If you've ever met me in person, you'd know that I'm not average for many reasons. Back when I knew it all, I guess I was a young person with very serious medical obstacles who was idealistic. I was absorbed with living life the way I perceived it should be. Or someone put it to me recently that I spoke of "rainbows and giggle drops"( I really hope that person finds this blog post rather amusing, because I certainly found their description of me amusing). Back then, I was sure that I would end up right back where I started. That's definitely what I wanted. I wanted to go down as a Jesus loving suburbia college grad in good ole Mountain Home. Aka: "normal." Currently, life is not going in that direction.

Apparently, I've given myself a bit of a reputation in Mountain Home because people I've never met happen to know that I'm currently a college dropout and a bored housewife living in NorCal who still enjoys making lots of noise in her small hometown. I still have very serious medical obstacles which prevent me from working as a professional barista at you guessed it, STARBUCKS! I understand that many of you may have gotten some hysterical laughs in your gossip circles at me and I'm pleased that I could have brought some joy to those miserable circles. I could only hope that the laughs continue.

Now that rebellious phase of adolescence is over, so are my days of promiscuity, drugs, and shitty alternative music(sometimes I secretly wish there were more of those days ahead....shh). Thank goodness the last one is finally over. I may lose credibility with some of you or maybe I never had it with most of you. I can see clearly now that I'm not always the gifted writer I tried to be. To a lot of you, I was just white trash. If I believed there were a god of any sort, I'd thank her/him for allowing me to realize I am my own adult and recognize my own value. Thankfully, my parents always allowed me to be my own person, so if you believe I'm my mother's minion.... You don't know what you're talking about and you certainly don't know me or her... She would never admit to drugs and promiscuity.