Hipster

Last night I had a dream that I found some old baby clothes of mine.

I found a little ruffly lace dress with a peter pan collar.

Instantly I wanted to tell everyone how hipster I was. I was photographing the dresses so I could prove that I liked all this stuff before it was cool.

That I was born a hipster. I was a hipster before being a hipster was cool.

I mentioned in an earlier post that I have some issues.

They've simmered down a lot recently because I've tried to have charity instead of hating everyone with anything in common with me.

I have an obsession with being original.


I basically strive to do whatever everyone else isn't doing.

I wear bright red sweaters with CATS on them because no one else does.

and it works. (I assume I do it for attention or something. Individuality, maybe.)

People notice me. They comment.
Satisfied.

I sit in my house and knit baby booties.

I spin on my spinning wheel and eat sushi.

I listen to weird, sad music and just LOVE IT.

I enjoy being strange. And the moment everyone else catches up with my strangeness,
I get stranger.

That's just the way it is with me.

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

I used to have this saying,

"being _________ is a state of mind."

Usually the word ticklish was what fit in there.

Because when I believed it, it was true.

People could tickle me and I had enough will power to hold completely still and not be affected.

I, Tabitha (Jordan, at the time) was not ticklish.
"I don't know anyone who isn't ticklish!!"
Satisfied.


And one last thing,


I love cats.
and I always have. Since day one. I'll find a picture. You'll see.