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First Impression, Smirsh Impression

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You know how people say, “You’re first impression is always right!” or “Go with your gut feeling about people”? Then they turn around and say, “Oh now, don’t be harsh, buttercup. Who are you to judge?” you then just want to hit them so hard you’ll make their teeth rattle for making a complete contradiction? Yeah, that’s what I’m feeling at this moment.

In my lifetime, I’ve been wrong several times about my first impression of people. For instance, a girl moved to my school and upon meeting her, I decided she was the most stuck up person on Mother Earth. But instead, she became one of my best friends. Another incident was when I dated a guy whom I met at an academic event. I figured he was a tame, gentle guy and he gave me the impression of such … at first. Boy, five months into that relationship, he proved me wrong in every aspect.

So I then decided to practice what I preach. I always say to people that God puts people in your life for a reason. Whether it be to teach you a life lesson or you to them is why they are placed there. If you get a snobby first introduction to someone, raise an eyebrow, and file it away for review later until you have more evidence to prove that what you think (which is, why that rude bi-) is indeed correct. But judge? Honestly, I was raised to believe that nobody has the right to judge and the only one that matters in the end is God and to give people second chances. You don’t know the involving factors.

I have to admit, sometimes when I meet someone who just rubs me the wrong way, I just want to sneer a rather hostile comment and walk away feeling smug. However, My kindergarten teachers voice always rings in my head every time I’m about to say something mean, “Norma-Jeane, dearest, if you haven’t anything polite to say, keep it to yourself.” Now, my best friend on the other hand says, “NJ, moron, if you haven’t anything nice to say … come here and let’s gossip about it.” My English teacher, on my invisible third hand, however handed me a book written by Celia Rivenbark named Bless Your Heart Tramp. Basically, she’s a Southern columnist writing hilarious anecdotes about her life or things she’s seen from a Southern’s view. Being from the South, it was good like sweet iced tea on a summer’s evenin‘. Now, never in my entire life, have I ever laughed so hard when I read the first column. To sum it up, Southern women can say anything they want about people as long as they say, “Bless their heart,” after said insulting sentence. For example, “Now she’s not the brightest crayon in the box, bless her heart, it’s like fittin‘ a square into a circle.”

She holds my heart forever.

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