Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Not So Hippy Dippy After All
I am not a hippy.
Yes, I believe in peace and love. I live in a commune. I just had feathers attached to my head as hair extensions (see picture). I dream of making the world a better place through music. It bothers me when people don't recycle. I own the original Broadway recording of "Hair." I have friends of all ages and I identify these friends by the type of art that they make. I've participated in a Solstice celebration. I think that reading Walt Whitman aloud by candlelight is a legitimately fun group activity.
But I am not really a hippy.
I have no interest in growing my own vegetables. I am okay with shopping at grocery stores. I enjoy eating meat. I have nothing against the organic movement, but I'm never going to sit and complain about artificial flavors in my ice cream. I have a deep respect for woman who don't shave their armpits, but I personally need to on a regular basis. I believe in feminism (to a certain extent), but I also believe in wearing a bra.
I have no desire to ever be openly naked among others. I never want to go to Burning Man. I'm not into drugs. The constant smell of marijuana gives me a headache. Though I sometimes look at my horoscope in the paper, I don't make assumptions about people based on astrological signs. I have never practiced any Eastern religions.
I own multiple fur coats. I drink a latte at Starbucks occasionally. Daily bathing is important to me. I hate camping. I could never live in the woods. When there is a spider in my room, I mercilessly kill it. Sometimes, I listen to totally processed, auto-tuned pop music. Sometimes, I disregard the fact that cars are hard on the environment and I drive to a place that is close enough to walk.
Six months ago, I packed up my life and naively moved into this "artistic community." Six months later, I feel like everything has changed completely but I know that isn't true. I am still Lauren. It just so happens that this year's model of Lauren comes equipped with a love of granola and a fear of brownies.
At least I have finally recognized this simple truth: I will never be an actual hippy.
But that's really okay.
I guess it's time to face reality and get a job of some sort. Hmmfph.