***AHEM*** "Goodness" Yeah I Wrote THIS ONE!

A Beautiful Type

The tall swanky bloke swaggered down the aisle. "I am a sex god," he seemed to exude.

Simplistically speaking, there are two types of people. Them, and Us. "Them" is categorized as those who know they are wonderful--handsome, beautiful, powerful, rich--Us, well, me. My friends. Like seems to attract like. Now, there are varying categories to be sure, but remember, we are simplistically speaking. I know I am good, but wonderful? Bwa ha.

yesterday, after my Economics class, a young pretty blonde, categorized in the first group, beat me to the Prof's side. "Like, I totally want to start my IRA!" she flounced. "My grandpa, like, totally has given me several rental properties, and once he dies I inherit a huge chunk of his estate. not that I need his money, because my parents have plenty, but like, I totally want to be smart with my money unlike my cousins who like are totally wasting theirs." She continued to ramble on, listing her assets, knowing she had not a care in the world--her life is paved with gold. Them.

Us. I work for every single scrap of clothing I have. For a period I lived on Ramen Noodles, I dropped down to 92 pounds, and sometimes its as if I have this pride, that I survived. An award I earned by making it. My parents would have gladly given me anything I needed to not live on Ramen, but my badge of courage is something I can point to personally and say, "I am fine on my own. I am independent."

Redness creeped up my neck when the girl turned to me and randomly asked, "so like, what kind of car do you drive?" Where the hell did that come from? "A mini van" I croaked out. Then I realized that I was giving in to my types.

You are this type, so you belong here. You, yes, YOU, over there, go stand in that corner with that group. Poor? Oh, go straight down the hall, take a left, a group is waiting for you. Scraggy looking? Ah, yes. YOU types. You belong fixing cars or sweeping storehouses.

Types give complexes, both good and bad. Types draw the lines, creating boundaries, and wherever there are boundaries, so I read recently in my book, "No Boundaries," there are potential war lines.

I have no clue where I got it in my brain, but I believed I was meant to be a common house wife, crank out the kids, a baby on my hip, barefoot in the yard, screaming at my popsicle young'un to go clean her mobile home room up, cum'pny cummin. "what do poor people use for airconditioning?" "waving a popsicle around." School was a means to find H.I.M and settle down, doing the Lord's work (LW). I was the epitome of a bad complex, never realizing my potential, settling for less, never dreaming big, never having the self confidence that I actually could do whatever I wanted if only I set my mind to it and worked hard. I would go around my richer cousins with nicer clothes feeling inferior. I was just the tomboy who lived like a monkey outdoors, many times taking the cot outside and sleeping with my dogs, watching the stars.

The color creeped into my face as I admitted I drove a mini-van instead of a hot sports car like she does. And then when I was done with business with my professor, I thought about it some more. She may have an easier financial road than me, but I no longer need to compare me, or Us, to Them. I put my pants on the same way everyone else does, from President Bush down to the mailman. Yes, I struggle with types. I laughed when the swanky bloke swaggered down the church aisle today in chapel. Yes, I am writing this on a piece of paper instead of listening to the chapel speaker. Yes, I don't like my mini van. But I embrace it--I embrace all humanity, and I will try my best to view them all as equal instead of putting them into categories and types. I strongly struggle with putting other people into categories, but I am aware of it, and I will try not to, but just as important, I refuse to turn color and feel inferior to someone, especially over a stupid vehicle. God made me wonderful, and beautiful, just as He did to everyone out there, and I mean everyone.

I caustically laughed at the swaggering bloke, because he is full of self-pride, but I honestly can accept him for him, and realize everyone has their personal style and touch to life. I admire my fellow student who is thinking ahead to investing in her future. But I live in an Equal Opportunity United States, so you never know. Maybe I'll be her boss someday.