There are two kinds of girls in this world. Well- there are many kinds of girls in this world. But only two kinds we're going to talk about today.
Girls with pearl earrings... and girls without pearl earrings.
Let me explain. I haven't ventured very far north at all- at least not for more than a weekend- so I'm certain that the culture varies to some degree depending on what part of the country you're in. But I'm in the south. And in the south, pearls are a thing. Not just a "get dressed up on the weekends" thing, either. Girls down here wear pearls with anything. Gym shorts, t-shirt, flip flops.... and pearl earrings.
I'm not one of those girls.
Those girls have great hair. It's always shiny like the girls in the Pantene commercials. They have monogrammed vests that they wear with their flannel shirts. Their skirts go to their knees. Their shoes are close-toed. Their make up is flawless. They drink mimosas at brunch because it's trendy and not because they wanted an excuse to get drunk before lunch. They go to these little places where a steak is gonna cost you $50 rather than Texas Roadhouse just because they would rather be seen there. Their houses most likely look like pages ripped from a Pier1 catalog, and they have at least two framed photos with their sorority sisters, no matter how long they've been out of college. Their friends also have pearl earrings. They won't associate with anyone who doesn't have the exact same lifestyle that they do and they are the most judgmental bitches you will ever meet.
But KAYLA, you say to me, that sounds like YOU are being judgmental... that's because I am. I'm judging the shit out of them right now. But I own it. These pearl earring girls- they're judge-y and they exclude people and hate people that they don't even know. I'm not saying that they're horrible people. They just aren't my kind of people.
Well. That's not entirely true. I have pearl earring friends. But the majority of these PEGs would never have lunch with me. Or brunch. Or even invite me to a baby shower. Why? Because I'm not like them. I don't own a pair of pearl earrings. My apartment is usually at least somewhat of a mess because I have a five year old little boy running around. My décor is mostly hand made. I prefer whiskey to champagne. I prefer Kristofferson to Buble. I would rather have a chili cheese dog from the Lake Dogs than some fancy steak from a place where I don't understand half of the ingredients in the dishes. And if I do want a steak, I'll go to the Rascals up the road. I don't have sorority sisters, but I do have my gang. My little hoodrats that are just as socially inacceptable as I am. These girls are real. The friends that I have love me. I mean like really love me. And what I love most about them is that they're just damn good people. They could have a legitimate enemy, but if that person were to actually need something- my friends would be there. That's my kind of person.
I appreciate a genuine person. But sometimes we all get caught up in the idea of what our lives are supposed to look like, don't we? We think that we're supposed to be married and have 2 kids and have a certain college degree and this particular career and a perfect house with this white picket fence and either be the girl with the pearl earrings or marry the girl with the pearl earrings.
I think about these girls and, I wont lie, I'm a little jealous. They look like they always smell good, don't they? They just look fresh all the time. It makes me wonder what their routine is like... in the morning... at night before they go to bed. I feel like I need to follow them around and take notes. But then I think about their sex lives and I imagine that they are completely boring. I could be totally wrong, but I also imagine the PEGs to be the "it's not your birthday" kind of girls, as well.
I'm not saying that these girls won't find true love. They have as good a shot as the rest of us. Hell, probably more of a shot. But they'll probably end up married to Bow-tie Guy and they'll have their little baby boys in bubble suits with smocking on the front. With a bonnet. On a boy.
I couldn't be happy with that life. I don't want Bow-tie Guy. He wouldn't like my kind of music. He wouldn't have a clue why it's imperative that I see Robert Earl Keen in Corpus Christi... he likely wouldn't even know who REK is. And he couldn't handle a girl like me.
See, I'm the kind of girl who doesn't know how to be anything other than myself. I can't pretend to be anything other than me. I can't pretend like I'm not loud and passionate and crazy. Because I am all of those things. And I can't imagine that I want to live anywhere other than Lake Park unless I moved to St Augustine to be closer to my best friend. I look in the mirror and ask if I'M happy with what I see in the mirror. I can't ask myself if every one else would be happy with it because I can't care. I'm from the south. I have a little PEG in me. I want everything monogrammed. And I have a dress or two that I think would look great with pearls.
But I don't need them.
And I don't need the white picket fence.
And I don't want bow tie guy.
And I don't want to be worried about what anyone else thinks my life should look like.
I don't want to live a lie because it's what looks better.
I just want to be happy. Whether that means that I'm single forever, or if I get married next week (I am not getting married next week)--- I just want to be happy.
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