Umm… People never cease to amaze me lately with how little they read and research things. Or maybe it’s how bad they are at reading and researching things? I don’t know. Either way, I’ve still got a cold and I’m grumpy.
Getting back to the little matter of Chicago being in the Midwest: Yes, Chicago is really, technically, a.k.a in reality, considered a Midwestern City. Now, there are some people who actually go so far as to say that Saint Paul (in Minnesota) is the “last East Coast City” when heading west… But that’s meant to be taken at least partially in a tongue-in-cheek way, because Chicago really is in the Midwest and that’s to the east of Saint Paul. Actually, Ohio is sort of where the Midwest begins according to a lot of people’s estimation. It’s sort of a middle ground between the Mid Atlantic states and the Midwest? And remember for those of you who don’t come from the US and who have spent little or no time here, this country is very, very big. Some of our states are like small countries in their size. Regions do matter in terms of culture, geography, etc.
And yes. I love geography. I was in a geography bee in middle school. That was before I became very depressed and stopped doing as well academically…
And while we’re on that topic, I actually took honors and AP classes throughout high school and my high school was an excellent school. It was the equivalent of some decent prep schools because many parents in my community insisted that their children go to Ivy League or semi Ivy League post secondary schools. They were very involved in our school and paid well for it. Mark Dayton (the Governor of Minnesota and a member of the Dayton family) once visited our school and talked with a few of us (not some large assembly) about his political ambitions (before he ran for governor). And he commented on how our hockey team was brilliant… His kids went to a school called Blake and he valued good hockey. Actually though, I met him that day… But he would never remember me.
Anyway, the point is, my school was what some people would call a “posh” school. Even though it wasn’t private. Actually, my friend’s sister went to the same school as Mark Dayton’s children… Her parents felt that their one daughter should attend that school but they wanted their younger daughter to go to the local school (where I went). And it wasn’t that they couldn’t “afford” to send both… (I’m sure some desperate person will think of that one) They just thought about it and felt the local school was best for their youngest.
I had plans to attend Vassar, Middlebury and a few others but…I truly fell ill to clinical depression in high school and my grades were not good. I passed classes but…I went from being a top student who only occasionally got a b and found a c tragic (an A- was bad) to a student who stopped trying… I had horrible existential qualms about many things, my parent’s marriage was crumbling…and basically life just kicked me to the point that I doubted the point of anything but true love in all its forms. <smile> And it was hard to figure out how my desire to enter politics and be a lawyer had any real point. It seemed pathetically bourgeois. Very selfish and silly.
I only really recovered from that mindset when I met my husband Mark, although I think my actual depression improved before that. In college I truly think it was my unhealthy thyroid that was to blame for my lack of energy, etc.
But…yes. On my mother’s father’s side we were definitely a well off, old, English-origin southern family before the Civil War and after everything above but well off. And given the way they immigrated from England and how much money they came with it’s unlikely they were anything socially below landed gentry or something of some money and connection. But given our historical research it seems they likely did come from a titled family. And again, when they abandoned that to move to the US (possibly for somewhat noble reasons) they lost their titles if they had them. But…that’s nothing to be ashamed of… They fought in the Revolutionary War and were Americans. Again, recognizing noble ancestry that was perhaps romantically abandoned for something more idealistic is hardly an embarrassment. Duh. <rolls eyes emphatically>
I mean…when one of the family members in the 1800’s gave up his slaves because he was an abolitionist he was losing a lot of money in the process and the ability to make more money. But he did it on moral, courageous principle. That’s also hardly something to be ashamed of… Idealism asks big. The cross of Christ is heavy…. Doing the right thing sometimes involves true humility.
Again. DUH!!! <rolls eyes>
Most people wouldn’t have the guts to give up actual wealth and high prestige for a good cause or for moral reasons. Most people… Having people who would in your family history doesn’t take away from where they originally came from entirely nor is it something to be ashamed of. To the contrary.
And for those of you hateful people who will stubbornly insist that this must all be false or false in some way that soothes your fragile, wounded egos, let me say that I have decades of accurate, scientifically provable evidence to back up everything I’m saying about my family and my life can be proven to be what I say it is (not that I’d trust anyone to do so nowadays…given how ignorant, irrational, morally misguided, selfish and angry so many people are or seem to be). But it is my reality and it is reality. I’m sorry that breaks your hearts.
You know most of you are just grasping at straws… Right?
The real question is: Why is my life and family history so offensive? It’s a question I’ve tumbled around in my head for a long while now…
I mean sure, some people just covet perfume and I do have a sizable amount of lovely perfume. And their angst likely stems originally from perfume collection envy… And for a while I had more followers than a lot of people on Instagram. But then what was popular changed and the best way to gain followers was no longer the way I did things. And I still had a decent number but many people had more than me. And oddly or not, that’s when I noticed people getting meaner. So were they intimidated into silence before? Or did people stop following me as much because I became perceived as “offensive” in some way that was previously perceived as charming? A lot of people suddenly started questioning my integrity and intelligence as a reviewer around then too… But I won’t start defending myself on that front. It’s too sad to me… And pointless because people will doubt you for emotional reasons that have nothing to do with objective reality and it’s impossible to reason with those people. They’ll twist everything you do or say to fit you into some vision they cling to of you that comforts their egos or soothes their personal hidden anguish.
But again, what is that anguish?!!!
In 2014 people were more cheerful. In 2015 they were grumpy but they had hope… But by 2016 people started ripping things apart internally and looking for suspects. Someone was to blame and it wasn’t them. Most people were sure of that… Some ism or some social ill or some group of people were certainly at fault.
And even if you didn’t feel the need to find a criminal you felt the strain anyway… People grew more insecure. More prickly. Worldwide.
So here we are in the final stages of 2018… I’m now a private account. Losing followers daily… And I’ve almost entirely stopped caring about not being offensive. I seem to bother people regardless…
Of course, I could be more careful and only post perfume, but I look at Instagram as a way to express myself and that sort of careful curation is not for me. And I do try not to be mean… I just have given up on not upsetting people by being myself.
But I’m not a suspect dears. Go find someone else to blame. Or perhaps, grieve… Or…try to find a way to realize what’s actually bothering you. It likely doesn’t involve you hating something or someone so much as grieving…and then finding a way to truly improve things.