Famous in my own right

Today I was reminded of one of my thousands of pet peeves...and realized it's a great first step to becoming "me."

I just logged on FB and a friend of mine posted a picture of her with a local sports star, some people would be like "oooooooo, ahhhhhh" but not us, we've been there, done that, old news. In fact she specifically asked me not to comment on the photo as we don't see him as a celebrity but moreso a hilarious part of our younger years and stories that I will take to the grave lie just beneath the surface.  That however is beside the point. My friend is a celebrity in her own right, she meets famous people all the time and has NEVER once bragged, unless asked to indulge our inquiring minds. ::FYI- Jamie Foxx is shorter than Justin Beiber. Just saying.  I found it interesting::

This got me thinking why is it that people who are NOT famous, ballers, celebs or the like pretend they are by bragging about what they are or have?  Point in case...

Recently I went out with my girl friends for a night of margaritas and madness.  Immediately upon sitting down, we had a vulture.  For those of you who don't know what a vulture is, it's an unattractive and older man (or woman if you like) who preys upon empty handed women under the influence in an attempt to start pecking at them like a disgusting bird to feed their need for attention.  I will always give a vulture a moment of time, maybe he has a daughter I look like he misses, maybe he's just lonely and wants someone to talk to or the worst...he just thinks he's awesome.  

Back to Thursday... So the second we sat down I had a vulture circling, in an attempt to be nice my friend sparked a convo with him while at the bar.  Not 5 minutes later he scampered over to our table like a puppy not sure if he's about to get pet or beat and asked if he could sit with me. I obliged and introduced myself and was immediately freaked out to find out that he wasn't 40-ish as I imagined, but instead 26, in fact a full month younger than me...whoa.  I've never been faked out before that someone is younger than what I thought.  The Gene Keady hair-do and the enormous high school class ring were deceiving, made me extremely weary and rightfully so.  A 45 minute conversation ensued where he mentioned every 2 minutes that he owns 10 houses at age 26 and he's getting his MBA and he's friends with a local grocery heir who's name, albeit I did know, I did not care about.  All of this was frightfully uninteresting and I found myself smiling and answering his questions politely and wondering doesn't he have anything about him that isn't bragging rights?  This guy was probably super nice and good hearted, in fact I would put money on the fact that he is but he never told me one thing about himself, just his possessions and rank in life.  After sometime he excused himself and I hadn't thought of him since, until now.

So this brings me back to my original point... why is it in life that we must rank ourselves by our associations and our possessions?  It's such a formality, when you meet someone anymore you might as well say, "Hi I'm Ashley, I own my home, I have an enormous amount of school related debt and I have former associations with ______."    It seems like that is all anyone is interested in anymore. Give me a break.  I don't care who I know or what I own and I don't think you do either.  I care that you worked last weekend at the humane society... I care that you visit your grandma on Wednesdays and make her dinner... I care that you care about something other than your personal status.  We as a society have become so obsessed with celebrity culture and our possessions that quite frankly it's sickening.  Does anyone else remember when Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous was the only show on TV about the lives of celebs?  Now we have entire cable networks dedicated to the topic. Pitiful.

I admit, I have fallen victim to flapping my mythical peacock feathers in an attempt to make myself seem more interesting and yes, it works but, no longer will I succumb to my own pet peeve.  Starting now I'm making it a personal mission to not glorify what I posses or whom I know but instead just be me.  I'm sure that someone out there will find it interesting that I have a sick obsession with Halloween decorating, I love pumpkins and peanut butter, I speak French to my cat and that I want to write my own cook book.  And quite frankly if you don't find me interesting due to my quirks in life then oh well, we probably wouldn't get along anyhow.

Day 1 of being me... going pretty great.