southern old ladies.

Southern old ladies are funny.
They breakdown into two class groups:
1)filthy rich/old money
2)legacys and not rich

Yes, the filthy rich are grouped with old money, because the filthies, regardless of how new, are able to so completely mask the age by goods that age becomes a non-factor. That pisses off the old monies to no end, but its reality.

The legacies, unless they are old money, are grouped with the poor. why? doesn't that seem strange? well, if you are the 8th generation of women to be an allumni, then most likely the locale has started to affect you in strange and entertaining ways.

At my alumni gathering, I realized that in the south, money always trumps power. I hate that. In non-southern places/with non-southerners, money is secondary, power and connections are the most important. With my allumni, you could be president of the world, but if you only sqeaked out with under 300k, your a$$ is grass. Sorry... you are great and all, please donate to the annual fund, but you only have one house right? It's not in the south? oh, how old is it? oh... that's nice. good god ladies.

The irony is that my school is not like that today. With huge portions of non-southerners, minorites, and a rather large economic variance, it is a place for everyone. A place where the newspaper editor is no longer the most popular, but more likely the most liberal and least-understood. The women that graduate today have little if anything in common with those of the past, which became glaringly clear last night.

Ugh. everyone,(yes even myself) had a 'do. The hair. I had never seen a group of more perfectly coiffed women in my life. I was sporting my million dollar designer suit, and thank god. I suppose I looked the part even if I didn't feel like I should be anywhere near these crazy rich old ladies. There I was, standing in a home in old town, where homes are beautiful but often lacking greenery. This was the most beautiful home I have ever been in. Hands down. It will be featured in southern homes this month. The art was awe-inspiring. The garden was immaculate, and the house was nearly as old as my school.

One woman fainted. LOL I know I shouldn't laugh but good god. It proved to me that I really was in crazy-world for a couple of hours. I wanted to scream at them, LADIES listen. Perfection means nothing if you have nothing behind it but air. Substance is required to be a real person. That substance would have told you to find a place to sit if you didn't feel good, not to stand there till your legs gave out. Even if I could I wouldn't live in a house like that. What if you go play in the snow? you can't come inside. What happens when you get home from a softball game in the rain? Where do you relax? Where do you put your feet up on the sofa to watch the superbowl with wings and a bud light? ugh. Clearly I didn't fit with most of the women there last night.

Lucky for me... I'm gonna live much longer than them. :) sorry!