I keep making New Year's resolutions to be a better person and then I lose a board game or eat a giant cookie and I lose my will to be a good person.
Reading this article for me was like standing around with a group of my friends, laughing and playing with each others hair when one of them steps out of the friend circle long enough to head butt my mother in the face. HOW COULD YOU, THE lOST OGLE?!?!?!
Today, I read an article by Marisa with The Lost Ogle. Marisa is apparently a former Edmond resident who moved away and now thinks Edmond is just awful. She could come up with 9 reasons! I'm so glad she got out when she did. I think she worked at Bennigan's but I am not entirely sure. Do y'all remember Bennigans? MMMmmm
Anyway. Marisa wrote this article about 9 reasons why she hates the town that made her who she is. Some of them are valid, even though she SUCKS AT WRITING ABOUT THEM. Sorry about that. See paragraph 1. (Moderately low self esteem/Lashes out at others when feeling threatened). So here's my list about why her list is dumb.
Marisa's #1. UCO knocked down my great-grandparents’ house
This isn't a real reason she hates Edmond, right? Well, guess what. Granny's house was knocked down so we could have an affordable 4 year university, centrally located. UCO employs almost 1,000 people. We all have to make sacrifices. I wish I could have afforded to go to OU, but we couldn't all have $100 prom dresses so some of us had to go to UCO. Including me, my brother, my sister, and my parents. My parents even got married there at the little chapel! UCO has the Jazz Lab! UCO has Mitchell Hall! UCO has Liberty Fest, which I KNOW you used to go to as a kid and loved the ABSOLUTE SHIT OUT OF.
Marisa's #2. $100 senior prom
Marisa's mad that she only spent $100 on her prom dress and everyone else spent $2,000. I'm mad that I wore glitter on my cheeks and corn rows and the darkest of dark mauve lipstick. Jill is mad that she wore that 2 piece dress. I'm still mad at the girl who had hair extensions before they were even a thing. It's prom. It was fun. I got my dress at Dillard's during "friends and family night" for 60% off and I'm fucking awesome. Why are you mad at fun?
Marisa's #3. The “Honda Civic”
She's mad that her friend got a Lexus. I can't even address this dumb grudge. My brother drove an old dented van and he was loved and has more self esteem than me. Or you.
Marisa's #4. Kickingbird Theater sucks
She's right on this one. But it was $2.25 and let me claim to be 11 years old until I was 19 so I could save a dollar. I loved this movie theater so much, it was always my alibi when I was really going to trench parties. Yeah, I partied in trenches. EDMOND.
Marisa's #5. The Lord does what now?
This has nothing to do with Edmond and everything to do with Oklahoma. She spotted someone getting in a fancy car saying the Lord had provided. This is EVERYWHERE. It's pretty much the only socially acceptable way to brag about yourself in this state. The Lord is providing for everyone in Del City and Chickasha, too. Promise.
Marisa's #6. People make assumptions about me Yes, I’m from Edmond. No, I’m not rich
Isn't it fun to be like, "No I'm not who you assume I am! I am a hardened writer from the streets and I live THIIIIIRTTTTTYYYYY miles away from that godawful place!" I bet it is so fun.
Marisa's #7. The Pills are Scary
I'm going to need some kind of proof on this valium in the bathroom story. One time, I got in a car accident and gave a cool druggy guy that I wanted to like me one of my pain killers. He slept through the next 4 classes. And he was the real kind of druggie. Like, the ones who didn't go to OU. Also, they don't get more blonde or peppy than me, and I can assure you- there was a lot more talking about how blessed I was than there was popping any kind of meds.
Marisa's #8. Traffic on Santa Fe
Another valid point of Marisa's. Let's widen it. Oh, we are? In 2015? K, moving on.
Marisa's #9 The Edmond “Ghetto”
The picture she took of the ghetto is from the neighborhood I lived in growing up and it did have a certain ghetto sparkle to it. The neighborhood had crime. It had a murder, Just one, though. but YOU DON'T GET TO CALL IT THE GHETTO UNLESS YOU LIVED HERE WITH US. And you didn't. You didn't get bit by a stray doberman and have to sit on your van all day, holding your rabies wound and waiting for help, You were never there on the days we would ride our bikes down the street and jump off, and whoevers bike went the farthest won. We dug up an old animal body in the fields and I carried around a lizard on my shoulder for a day until it died. I broke my vagina on a fence, I broke my neighbor's nose with a softball pitch. I broke my brother's spirit with my incessant selfishness (see paragraph1). IT WAS THE GREATEST 10 YEARS OF MY SIGNIFICANTLY AWESOME LIFE.
The moral of the story: I live here and I love it. My three little Edmond spawns will grow up here- eating at Zarate's mexican on Broadway and going to Liberty Fest every year. They're going to play at Rocketship park and it's going to be rickety and unsafe and fun. They'll go see children's theater at Mitchell Hall. I'll take them to the Jazz Lab and to Sara Sara cupcakes. TLO, go back to making fun of actually awful things.
