I have no idea what this house costs. It's really none of my business.
People ask the stupidest questions sometimes, broadcast the most ridiculous assertions based on their own warped interpretation of life. They think slathering the world with accusatory rhetoric is anything other than simple deflection and the utter lack of self awareness it actually constitutes. They think themselves profound on the behalf of all us common wretches, and that we need to know about it. Truth is, it's just bitchy, is all.
If I were the Magic 8 Ball for Bitches, I would have answers like:
- Get over yourself.
- Keep your eyes on your own paper.
- Please your own man.
- Check your mouth, there's a foot stuck in it.
- Check your butt, there's a corncob stuck in it.
- Pray harder.
- Be kinder.
- Pray again.
And my family, the people closest to me? I will sing their praises loudly, from the rooftops, and think that it's a fine thing when other people, even women!, do the same. It's neither my place nor my business to question their authenticity, to dispute what I cannot possibly know anything of - they can sort that out with God, while I'm sorting out my own nonsense with Him. I will give them credit, if for nothing else but practicing bragging on their loved ones. That is not boastful, it constitutes no assault on another person. Conversely, the arguments against just such things are fraught with passive aggressive personal attacks, the very ruthless "I'm just sayin" and "be not boastful" bullshit kind that women are (in)famous for.
I do not consider my family a personal accomplishment, but I do consider their accomplishments and goodness as individuals a source of righteous pride. I like my life, adore my husband, enjoy a good bikini wax, and can cook like few women can. I can balance the checkbook, hire a contractor, plan a party, dig a garden while giving my husband great head and pray the rosary all at the same time - if that's what my husband required (which he doesn't, not all at the same time - I was trying to make sure I was as ridiculous sounding as possible so as not to disappoint). But I'd do it, with pleasure, and I'd be good at it. That's not bragging, it's simply true.
The world is due for a little Pretentious Piety Purge just about now. But, go ahead, hate me - and then talk to the Magic 8 Ball.