Diary of a Mad Hippie Ch. 1

Dear Diary:
My name is Tara Howle, and I am the proud owner of this diary. Actually, scratch that. I am now

going by my new chosen name, Tarragon, as I am no longer a part of the Howle family dynasty.

 I have decided to chronicle my life here so that someday my children and their children can read it,

and understand who I am, and where I came from.

I am not very proud of the legacy that I turned my back on, but it is a part of me, and in this diary

 is the only place I will ever mention any of it.

I was born 21 years ago to a glamorous, ritzy life, daughter to billionaire tycoon Thurston J Howle III, and his beautiful movie star wife, Lovey. I had everything I ever wanted, except for the unconditional love and attention of either of my parents. I attended private boarding schools, and when I was home I was tended to by my elderly nannie, Isabelle.

By the time I turned 13 I had managed somehow to convince my parents to allow me to attend the public highschool,

and that was where I met Greg.

. 

Gregs family was from the ‘other side of the tracks’ according to Father, but to me he was just perfect.

 He had the cutest dimples and the brightest blue eyes, and always wore the sexiest black leather jacket.

It didnt take long for Greg and I to fall in love, and I had a hard time keeping that a secret from my parents.

 When Father found out, he went straight to the factory where Gregs dad worked and threatened to have him

fired on the spot if he didnt keep his son away from me. Greg said he wasnt afraid, that my Father was just full

of hot air, but I knew better. I knew if we were going to ever be together it was going to have to be against our

parents wishes, and I just didnt think we were strong enough to do it.

I continued to meet Greg privately for a few weeks, but something had definitely changed.

I saw fear in his eyes whenever he was with me, and we slowly grew apart.

After that I didnt want anything to do with my parents, I fell into a deep depression

and nearly flunked out of school.

 

Mother became irate at me for not wanting to ‘come out’ at the Debutante Ball like all the

other girls of our social class, but I absolutely refused. As soon as I graduated from

high school they wanted me to go to Yale or Harvard, or any other Ivy League school,

but I held firm on that, as well.

 

I took a year off to back pack across Europe, and I learned a lot from that experience.

One thing I discovered was that a college degree may not be so bad, but when I asked my parents

about enrolling at the local University they out right refused. That was the last straw for me, and for them too.

Father threw his hands up in the air, wrote me out of the will, and Mother took more tranquilizers

to calm her frayed nerves. The last I heard of them they were on a cruise ship, headed to Honolulu,

for a three hour tour.

So, long story short, I went to Beatnikville University on scholarships and waitressing money.

l lived in a crowded dorm, and worked my way through college like all the other students around me.

 My eyes have been opened to a whole new way of life, and I am embracing it completely.

The old Tara has gone, Tarragon has taken her place. I have legally changed my name and now hope

to have a beautiful future, full of peace, love and organic foods.

PS Diary: I heard through the grapevine that Greg actually went to Uni too, on a football scholarship,

and graduated cum laude. No one has heard from him since, but rumor has it that he’s branched out on

the other side of town, starting a legacy of sorts of his own. Maybe one day our paths will cross…I hope so.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I’ve got a new pad, bought some new threads,

and I’m on the make, looking for my soulmate to walk into my life. I’m looking for my destiny, man.

I’ve decided to let go of ‘the man’s’ rules and adopt some of my own. From now on, I make money at home,

and I let my creativity shine. No more fancy workout equipment, it’s dancing and yoga for me and

all my future children. I will sew our own clothing, and teach my children at home, myself. If my kids want

 to go to college, they are going to have to prove to me that they’re unique individuals first, so they don’t

conform to society when they’re out in the world. They will max their creativity before they move out.

But anyway Diary, I think I’m getting ahead of myself. First of all, I am out of scratch,

but getting a real job would be such a drag. I need to find some way to make money from home,

relying on no one but myself and my own skills. Surely a gold flower making badge can earn me some bread?

 

In the meantime, I think Destiny just walked in my door. I found myself really gone over Abhijeet.

He’s just so groovy.

He thinks I’m pretty righteous, too. I was so rude, I completely ignored all the others

in the welcoming committee that day.

Later that night I was supposed to hook up with him again, at some happening joint,

I don’t remember the name of it. I got there late and he was trippin’, he thought I stood him up!

Some weird dude named Brandon something or other rapped with me for a while.

Then he tried to impress me with his moves, but I wasn’t digging it.

I finally spotted Abe across the crowd and called him over to me.

I really dig this cat, and his kisses are out of sight.

I had forgotten that society doesn’t much like public displays of affection,

and it was a bad scene when this old lady saw us making out.

The chick was wiggin’ out, she socked it to me with her purse!

I think she works for the establishment or something…

                                                                                                                     

The next morning, Abe was still flipping his wig, and tried to steal my paper.

Dude, I did not stand you up, my cab was late!

But I was all; ‘hey, take a chill pill dude’, and he warmed up to me really fast.

You know what they say; ‘make love, not war.’

And well, I wasn’t getting any younger, I needed to get started growing my own little garden,

 if you know what I mean.

But man, those months of being knocked up were rough, I could barely care for myself,

so Abe crashed at my pad with me for a while to help me out.

 When I felt well enough I learned all I could online about how to be a good parent.

I didn’t want to raise my child the way my parents had raised me, that much was obvious.

I’m still embracing the new me, let alone a new responsibility, a child!

Abe wasn’t always as helpful as I had hoped he’d be.

But he didn’t seem to have any hangups, and was entertaining, atleast.

Labor was definitely a bummer, but having my baby, Pepper, was a magical experience, almost like a dream.

After he was born, Abe and I decided he would hang out a while longer, having a newborn

was even more of a drag than being PG!

I have to say, I really dig learning how to do things around the house myself…

I spend hours in my greenhouse, trying to grow a healthy garden. I think it’s just wrong to

 feed all that processed junk to my kids, from now on it’s organic or nothing.

Actually, I’ve gotten to feel so close to nature, I spend more time out here with my plants than

I do in my house. I just feel so confined indoors, I’m a free spirit, I don’t want to be reined in.

By anyone. Like Joni Mitchell says; gotta get back to the land, and set my soul free.

Or something like that.

Abe has a problem with all of my time pulling weeds. I mean, ‘What’s your bag man? Stop freaking out on me.

Animals are my friends-and I don’t eat my friends’. Abe is getting too heavy on me,

I’m thinking it’s nearly time for him to split.

I just hate to make waves right before the kids birthday. Not that he had a real party, or anything,

or, umm, presents, because I am, like, not into consumerism. Anymore.

Despite my lack of parenting skills, little Pepper grows up to be pretty fab.

I am trying hard to find a balance between the social protocols of my upbringing and an

‘anything goes’ existance. I know he’s going to need some rules.

Because who knows what kind of harm can come to a child if the parents aren’t atleast a tiny bit aware?

Diary, sometimes it feels so good just to let go, to unwind, ya know? I think I just need to chill for

a while, and stop trying to figure out my life, let life take care of itself. Go with the flow,

as they say. Peace out, diary. Till next time.

C’mon people, now
smile on your brother,
ev’ry-body get together,
try to love one another right now.
Peace Out. Chapter 2 coming soon.
*Author’s note: This story is just a story, not intented to be a political opinion of any sort. My father is a Vietnam vet, I am not an anti war protestor. Capiche?* Also, any time I put in an apostrophe it threw out 4 ???’s instead, so if it’s not typo perfect, don’t blame me.