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house of unamerican activities

I was just thinking about how two days ago i went to eat dinner with my mom because it was her birthday...and she asked me how did i become so un-American.

I guess i really am, i mean, I don't eat meat, i have expressed the desire to NEVER own a christmas tree, i don't want to tell my future children about santa (its a LIE!) claus, i don't wear make up and tight butt hugging jeans, i have zero name brand clothing (except for shoes, its kind of hard to find decent generic shoes, i don't want to break the ol' ankle on a run), i don't like iced TEA, i HATE grits (southern traditions, i practice not), i'm not xenaphobic (if you don't know what that means, i will give you a hint: it does NOT have anything to do with fear of the fantasy character XENA: Princess Warrior.), i don't like TV (just the simpsons), i don't want to be a Millionare, i love indian food, man, just DEPORT me now!

Oh, but i do vote. That is American.

Another memory that spending time with my mom brought up was how she always would call me a LESBIAN or a DYKE in an effort to get me to wear make-up and do other girly primping things. It was totally unfounded, I always had a boyfriend. And now I'm married.

She said something about not wanting me to look like a dyke two days ago because i didn't want to wear these huge clip on earrings she found for me. I don't think that looking femanine should neccessarily involve looking/dressing tackily. But, oh well.

wild thang

ckb


2001-02-15 at 23:43:28



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