Actually, maybe you SHOULD read this blog. Because guess what?
There are a lot MORE of us who AREN’T bitches out there.
Ever notice that “the popular girls” always tended to hang out in tiny little groups, like, in fours, with only three other friends – while the rest of us had a MILLION friends?
Guess what? We’re all grownups, now, girls, and if YOU forgot to grow up, and stayed bitchy, then the rest of us – the nice ones – well?
WE’RE out here, counting our million friends, while you?
Actually?
We don’t care.
BEST BLOG POST I’VE READ IN, LIKE, FOREVER: READ THIS.
Everything you read on this blog is actually true. As in, this is a genuine, non-fiction blog. Generally, I don't name names when the parties concerned are (a) related to me and/or (b) under the age of majority, and therefore no matter how funny they are, unable to give their informed consent to have their hilarious but true commentary on the ridiculousness of life publicized globally. I do, however, skirt the issue of crediting them by admitting it was not ME who came up with their jokes, but "some kid." (Works for most of us.)
look - no, really, look 
Ohmyfuckinggod! As if I didn’t already love you to death BEFORE I read this blog post – this one put you over the edge, girl. And I loved the other post as well. Whatever are people thinking, being all elitist and shit? People suck sometimes – plain and simple.
But you, my friend, do not suck. Never. And I’m quite honored to have you as a friend (in my big, fat, honking, non-clique-ish group of friends š
Sorry for all the cursing – it’s just that kinda day!!
The honor is mine, oh potty-mouthed one. No worries; I fucking swear all the fucking time. :~)
Seriously, though, isn’t it the truth? Whip out the movie “Mean Girls.” Four girls, three friends each. That’s IT. Never failed to boggle my mind.
Elitism always bugged me. My gran, who had every right in the world to be the biggest SNOB in the world, always told me: “The worst kind of people make others feel small. The REAL ‘best’ people make others feel good about themselves.”
Whether it was true or not, she told me the story about a guest drinking out of a finger bowl, not knowing what it was for – and the host, ensuring that the guest would not be embarrassed – did so himself. Another story? When a guest was “corrected” for smoking at a party by another guest, the host corrected the “corrector” – “In MY house,” said the host gently, “a guest can do no wrong.”
People who don’t know me don’t know that if I were so inclined, I could “out-snob” pretty much anybody. But my family – an old one – taught me better: a snob is someone who’s actually INSECURE of where they sit in the world. Someone who’s SECURE in themselves, their place in the world, and their true worth?
They really aren’t worried about anybody’s opinion but their own of themselves. Hence, all the “eccentrics.”
There’s a really wide world full of interesting, loving, way-cool people out there. Why limit yourself to the “club” or the “clique” when you can join the whole world?
Besides: WAY too much stress, trying to fit into a mold. Bad enough, stressing over fitting into my jeans.
Great points here. I love it now that I am “all grown up” I no longer care.I lost the give a shit on popularity back in middle school.
Sure wish everyone did.
Not only do I not really care, I walk around the world as if I AM the popular girl. I just ASSUME everyone loves me. Even when I learn otherwise. I’m like: “Oh, they just don’t KNOW me, otherwise THEY’D love me, too.”
Like Oscar Wilde replied, when someone told him: “Oh, Oscar, they’re TALKING about you!”
“I’ll worry when they STOP talking!”
-elizabeth