It all began with the first duvet my mom bought me to cleanly, crisply, and beautifully protect the first down comforter my Nana got me. All of the sudden, all previous bedding in this world seemed lesser and insignificant. I threw the Egyptian cotton sheets, the silk, the linen, all the fabrics of my past down the river in a hand basket, and out with the baby swimming in the bath water. This is what began my life as a snob.
Here in the chalet, due to the lack of washer and dryer, we are chained to using the guardian and his wife as our laundromat. You can walk your laundry to town, but the rumor is that it takes hours and a French lottery’s worth of Euros to accomplish the task.
Ask my mother if you need the proof — As soon as I could say enough to throw a temper tantrum about not having the most fashionable Osh Kosh Oh My Gosh overalls to wear, I wanted to do my own laundry. I wanted to be in control of my clothing. I wanted to fold it, hang it, meticulously iron every sock, color coordinate my entire closet with all the hangers the same way and buttons facing the East….I mean…no, I never did that. Since then, catastrophes have always happened when other people touch my laundry. Skirts shrinking, pants with pens in the pocket exploding over entire loads of laundry, floods reaking havoc on shirts I would have worn everyday if it was socially acceptable… I always just think it’s better as a human being to do things myself, then no one becomes my indentured slave, no one loses any fingers, and I am always the one responsible! Viola! Everyone stays happy.
Reluctantly, though I have given bags of my clothing into the hands of Jeff and his wife, I have no clue her name because she REFUSES to talk to me in English and pretends not to have a CLUE as to what I am saying even when I am speaking French to her. Next time I will try Japanese. When I knock on the door with laundry in tow, she shouts, “It’s the Julie Norman girl”.
I’m a snob. Don’t be offended if I don’t add you to my list of only Facebook friends because I am strict about it staying at the number 143. I feel compelled to change my duvet cover every week, I am a little high maintenance when it comes to throwing the shirt with grey stripes and the khaki pants in the dryer, and I plunge into a dark, quiet hole if I don’t get organic veggies pumped into my blood stream at least once every 3 hours. I only ride Mercedes Benz buses (fortunately here that’s all there is). I sip water with lemons, and if it’s mineral water in a fancy glass bottle –all the better. I can’t stand when people put their feet on my pillow or stick their toes up my nose, and I really dislike touching other people’s dirty socks, shoes, hats, gloves, coats, undergarments, and bed sheets unless I have decided said item is “dirty-clean” or I am wearing an astronaut costume.
Snobbish pillow-arranging fetishes, snubbing those who tell me it will snow when it’s obviously going to rain. How did this happen to me? I was born Trailer Tart Trash Tina, not Princess Perfect Portia. Maybe it was because I didn’t drink the water as a kid? But most importantly, how can you prevent it from happening to you? Here are the hard fast rules.
How Not to Be A Snob
Commit to Not Washing Your Hair for an Extended Length of Time (No pun intended)
If you’re having trouble finding true friends, who will not fair weather you through the storms, this is a foolproof method for any snob to separate the wheat from the chaff. Are you finding that the only people who will be your friends have a bigger house than you, faster motorboat, and more pearl necklaces? Try approaching life as a person committed to smelling worse, and you may just find friends that are more true and loyal. If you don’t have enough hair for this method to work, garlic cloves, raw onions, and anchovies also work quite well for finding out who your real friends are.
Hang out with Even Bigger Snobs
If you’re reading this, you’re already off to a great start considering I am probably more of a snob than you are and you’re reaching out for opportunities to say, “At least I am not as snobby as HER.” If we start hanging out, people will likely look at you as a humble, servant-hearted and lowly as Cinderella and maybe even forget you were snobby to begin with. When I am starting too feel a little too greater-than-thou even for myself, I just go down to the local Farmer’s market where I am sure to get the cold shoulder when I accidentally say, “Shove it in your piehole,” in French, instead of, “I’ll have two more please.” Today I wanted to tell the pretentious butcher, “Toss me a bone, I’m just learning!” But his snarky eye brow raises make me feel much better about my quiet, patient, gentle spirit with those not quite adroit at various activities as I am.
Step Out of Your Comfort Zone
I know it’s starting to sound impossible with this one added to the list, but trust me –it’s good for you! It may not feel healthy to have a pus-filled volcano on your face ready to burst because you don’t have your usual routine in place and they don’t let you bring your Lancome on the airplane, but in the end it’s the best thing for you.
Bring Water to a Rolling Boil
Oops, this is for the next blog…how to cook a cup of tea.
Don’t Make Lists of Things People Should do To Become More or Less Like Who You Think They Should Be.
Self-explanatory. And the root of the matter. People are often snobby because they feel either they are doing things better than others and are the first to let you know, they are completely floundering in their lack of self-esteem, or simply looking for various ways in which to set themselves apart, and seem “different” in a more elitist fashion. This is my reason for snobbery too. I try to outweigh my dignified ways with other tactics to make myself stand out such as having dirt under my fingernails and showing up everywhere either under or overdressed for the occasion. It’s all about balance, right?
The other person is YOU. They are born like you, they pick their nose when no one is looking like you do, and they puke when they have the flu, like YOU do. Understand with compassion and it’s impossible not to leave your snobbery by the wayside.
Thinking about snobs all began with my asking the question, “Who is coming to dinner?” Doesn’t it always start like that? Be it tales of youthful forest fires, stories of conquering, weeping and gnashing of teeth….in this case, the question launched a discussion of the high class snobs that will be joining us for dinner on Thursday night. I forget their names, which is good because they are probably reading this trying to figure out they can become friends with a bigger snob so as to appear less uppity than they truthfully are. I kind of can’t wait to meet them either and try Pop-Secret’s new Kettle Korn on them!!
Julie said they are not snobby when they are in the mountains, because it is where they feel their best. When we all just decide to make our lives our own, there is really no reason to tell anyone else how to do it! Doesn’t every concept just boil down to peace, love, and happiness.
Snot everyday I get to share the earth with such wonderful people,
— Emily —