Remember that one time...?

So, as some of you may remember, I wrote a column a little more than a year ago about the terrible ways that people tend to clothe themselves. And I wanted to bring this up for a couple of reasons. First: even though I know everyone that reads this are my friends and understood the humor, I just want to set the record straight about what the dang thing was about and debunk some myths. Second: I wanted to share with you this amazing email that I received from a man named…we’ll call him…Cherry. Third: I wanted to share some experiences surrounding the column with you lovely folks that you might not have known about. Anyway, you can find the article here: theplainsman.com, or if you google my name. That’s hilarious, googling my name.

By the way, this is on my mind because I finally made a memoriam of the column. I’ve wanted to do it forever and include the column and all of the things surrounding it. Picture: 

The reason it’s on an H is I’m spelling out “Laugh,” individually crafting each letter in a different way because I’m so damn creative. And the last letter is a decoupage of all the column stuff I could fit on there.

PART ONE: MYTHS

Myth #1: The column was an attack on the Greek community.

Truth: There was less than a paragraph regarding sorority shirts with frockets, and a single section (out of four) that addressed frat boy dress. That is all. If the Greeks were the ones that got offended about the article in general, then that just means that they’re the ones who dress that way. Not my fault. 

Myth #2: It was unacceptable to publish such heresy in a newspaper.

Truth: It’s a column. NOT an article. Read: it is opinion. So there’s that.

Myth #3: I took a stab at anorexia.

Truth: I was taking a stab at the unnecessary attention girls pay to their figure, and the pressure to be thin is even higher in a sorority. Anorexia isn’t funny. Counting calories is a little funny.

Myth #4: I’m a bitter girl that didn’t get a bid.

Truth: I didn’t rush. I just did not.

To conclude the myths section, I would like to say that I have NOTHING against sororities and fraternities. I care not if you are involved in them. I have tons friends in sororities and fraternities (even now, I might add). This was a column about clothes. CLOTHES. CLOOOOTHES.

PART TWO: CHERRY’S EMAIL

Ok, so here is the greatest email that I received. And believe me, I got a crap ton. This email, from a man named Cherry, was the funniest thing to ever appear in my inbox. So I have decided to share it with you, accompanied by some helpful corrections and comments, which are in red.

From: CHERRY

Date: Thu, 27 Jan 2011 18:58:31 -0600

To: ME

Subject: Kelllllyyyyyyy

         You honestly just suck at life. And I'm glad you're "peice (piece) of journalism" (column) was published, because it shows how much of an asshole you really are. That "peice (piece) of journalism" (column) was completely unprofessional (nay good sir, for it was merely opinion). I know you are trying to "throw your name out there" as a journalist (just trying to be funny), but the pictures on Facebook of you have already done that (my pictures put my name out there as a journalist?). Way to piss off half of the student body (not even 30 percent). The student body that makes Auburn, (there should not be a comma there) exactly what it is. 

        Did you not get a bid? (Nope. Cause I didn’t rush) Well it really isn't that hard, well, for most people (that’s not even a sentence). But most people aren't like you. Most people aren't arrogant assholes (good example of irony). Most people have friends (I have no friends *sarcasm*). Most people don't try to piss of the greek student body. (Not the goal) After reading your article (column), it screamed one word at me. INFERIOR. You're the girl that didn't get a bid (*sigh* didn’t rush). You're the girl that no one likes (The feedback I received was overwhelmingly positive). You are the girl, (again, comma splice) who wants so dearly to be like those girls rocking the nike shorts (Nike should be capitalized)(also, no). You are such an unprofessional journalist that I'll use some visuals to help you (what follows is words, not visuals. If I could see only in visuals, this would actually be extremely confusing for me).

FRATERNITY BOYS > YOU

SORORITY GIRLS > YOU

ME > YOU

MY DOG > YOU

MY PLEDGE PIN > YOU

THE DIRT ON THE BOTTOM OF MY FRAT ASS SPERRIES > YOU

          Oh Kelly, I'm sure you are crying right now (I was. From laughing), wishing you would have never done this (Are you kidding? I got like five job offers from legit newspapers. Guess I really am a horrible journalist...). No one likes you now (So many people agreed with me it was insane. One guy actually proposed). Well, no one liked you in the first place (false), but people who don't even know you, like me, well, they hate you too. As I conclude my email, you're (really?) portion about sunglasses and croakies made me think of one thing, one website that I, along with many other successful, well-rounded individuals thoroughly enjoy (here, I think well-rounded may refer to beer belly).

Some GDI walked up to me at the bar and asked why I had my sunglasses around my neck at one in the morning. I told him because I drink til the fucking sun comes up. TFM (How proud you must be, Cherry)

          Well Kelly, I hate to break it to you, but every single one of those frat boys that has croakies on is drunk as hell (…ok…why did you have to break that to me?). Sleeping through their classes, texting their slampieces, looking at their stocks, well you get the point (Again, such pride. Also, that was a fragment). While you try really hard to become a journalist one day, all of us are having the time of our lives. But the really sad part about it is that no matter how hard you try, we're happier (consistent drunkenness will do that to you), were (we’re) gonna make more money than you (doubtful, if you sleep through your classes), and were (we’re) better than you.

Your email screams Inferior. (I actually did not send Cherry an email)

My email screams Superior.

TFM

Wasn’t that enjoyable? Thanks for brightening my life, Cherry. I wish I’d had room to include that email on my H, but the other stuff pertained more to the column.

PART THREE: STUFF MOST PEOPLE DON’T KNOW ABOUT

I was asked in Fall semester of last year to do an interview. The email told me, and I quote, that the interviewers were from a “new student newpaper.” And I was like, aight. I’ve wanted to do an interview about this for a while.

Anyway, like halfway through the interview, the girls got super accusatory with their questions, and I felt really uncomfortable. And I asked them what newspaper this was for, and they told me it was for a Greek student newspaper. And they insisted they had told me that in their email, but I was like, “Listen, I have the email. You did not tell me.” So I left. I said, “You can publish this if you really want to, but I would prefer that you didn’t.” But of course they did. I thought about pressing charges, because they didn’t have my informed consent. INFORMED being the key word, because it is the legal responsibility of a reporter to tell the interviewee the title of the newspaper—or magazine, whatever—that he/she is from. But I didn’t press charges, because ultimately, their article made me look good, and the snarky comments they made them look bad. You can read it here: theodysseyonline

That was a really long blog post, but I never got the chance to really clear the air about any of the stuff that went down after my severely misinterpreted column. Bottom line: the column was a big fat sarcastic poke at the way people dress, and it was meant to be funny. I figured I’d offend some people, but I was NOT expecting death threats or entire websites dedicated to bashing me when they don’t even know me. People need to learn to take a joke!

But all in all, most messages I got were people telling me that they loved the column, and that was awesome. I have zero regrets. My only wish is that I had made my facebook private prior to all this…