Bargain Hunter.

"Behold I do not give lectures or a little charity; when I give I give myself."

My parents used to always tell me stories to construct a healthy mindset for the future - call it a conditioning process to equip myself with a proper morality and faith in existence. I latch on to these ideals, and in most cases, take them to all new extremes.

For example, one valuable yet simplistic sit-down encoded the importance of having someone care about you on the inside, rather than the outside. As the wheels in my mind start jostling this information around at a young age, I come to the conclusion and creation of the theory of comfortableness. Like any theory it must be tested, with trial after trial and scientific reviews of its veracity and significance in societal weight. For the past 8 years, this method of serene relaxation of ones guise has been practiced. This is where I make my conclusion.

I'm a messy looking person: oversized shirts, unflattering sweats, and not to mention the shaggy locks often times found with a mind of their own. Thanks to the parentals initial installation of the ideology, I now find myself wandering the streets with holes in my pants and oil streaked on my uggs. Throwing inhibition to the wind, this comfortable cockiness fills my soul with joy. I assume that others find it unappealing and even offensive, though, especially when the clothing is riddled with cat fur (now that I read that, it sounds horrific). However, I figure that, hey, if you can see past the less-than-frilly wardrobe and old velcro watch, then you're definitely worth keeping around. A true test of character, really. Although, my self esteem came crashing down when a classmate recently approached me.

"Courtney, why do you always dress up for me?" he uttered, riddled with sarcastic tonality. And another individual,

"So, mountain woman, you going camping after class?" Last but not least, the roommate whom needless to say I'm in love with exclaimed one afternoon,

"If you wear that sweatshirt for one more day, I'm going to burn it!"

Can these individuals not see past the rugged image and through to my seemingly personable personality? This theory of comfortableness has contorted my mind in such a way to think that dressing like the homeless person on the corner of the street is a-o-k. In fact, I'm convinced that it's more than ok, it's a lifestyle-esque statement that, one would hope, demands acceptance from the world on a more genuine level. Could you image what life would be like if everyone judged based on character rather than appearance? Nancy Pelosi would have a tough time maintaining her rank, and plenty of celebrities would slip out of their realm of egotism rather quickly.

I can say, however, that I'm content with who I am, be it in a pair of old jeans or a dress, and I do happen to appreciate my hair in all its fury. Maybe a revolution might occur, and soon we'll be walking through the once-paved streets outfitted by mother nature, reverting to the prehistoric ways of simplicity and altruism. I'd have to wait until I'm able to buy a gun, though, so I can feel the pride and accomplishment of wearing my own grizzly coat.

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