I've never thought of myself
as a deep thinker. I do, however, think a lot. Too much, sometimes. Most of these thoughts just pop up out of nowhere. Perhaps that's why they seem so inane. And since they often pop into my mind at warp speed, they're usually completely unrelated, too. The brain is a fascinating thing.
Some of my most recent, inane, unrelated thoughts:
Why is it that you never see a muscular man wearing a "muscle shirt?" It's always some fat guy who should know better. And the fact that, for some bizarre reason, they're now called "wife beaters" should make all men decide to never wear one.
Is my daughter really the most beautiful girl in the world, or is it just my world?
Why, when I love most foods, are there some that I just can't eat because of their texture? Jello? Fiddleheads? Okra? Raw oysters? Ugh.
Why does my 85 lb. dog feel like he weighs double that when he insists upon sitting on my lap?
My doctor is the only person in the world, other than me, who knows how much I really weigh.
Why can kids get away with saying things that adults would never consider saying? And why do I think it's cute? A few examples: "I hope when I'm a grown-up I look just like you............without the double chin." "You used to be skinny, then you were fat (pregnant), now you're medium." "Mrs. C., I know you're a way lot older than my mom, but you sure don't act it." "My mom dyes her hair to make it the same color as mine" leaving me to explain that my hair was, in fact, the same color as hers until it started turning sssshhh...gray. And my all-time favorite "Mom, why do so many of the other moms have blue lines all over their legs, but yours are just nice and smooth?"
Why, no matter how hard I try to be a cool Auntie, can I not learn to like hip-hop/rap? I just can't find anything redeeming about it. I'm not too fond of country either, but when traveling to the south I can get into the spirit of it.
Why is my 11-year-old son suddenly asking me to not shop at Wal-Mart (when I don't shop there anyway), to buy only organic food, and to please not vote for Sheldon Whitehouse in the next election? Where did my baby go?
Why, oh why, do news programs constantly scroll those words along the bottom of the screen? Don't they know I can't do two things at once (watch and read)? Last night after everyone was asleep (no news when kids are awake), I decided to watch a little Anderson Cooper and ended up reading all that junk at the bottom of the screen. Today, I couldn't even tell you what Mr. Cooper was talking about.
Why is it okay when your own kid spits, snots, or vomits on you, but if someone else does it, it's enough to make you spit, snot or vomit yourself?
Why does my list of places I'd like to go keep getting longer instead of shorter?
Ditto for the list of things I'd like to do.
Why can you take the girl out of marketing, but can't take marketing out of the girl? The secret is out. Yup, that's my "capitalist pig" background.
Why do I feel comfortable telling total (or not so total), virtual strangers the parts of my life that I would never discuss with anyone in my real life?
Just a few things I think about. There's a million more, equally inane and inconsequential. But I still think about them anyway.
Some of my most recent, inane, unrelated thoughts:
Why is it that you never see a muscular man wearing a "muscle shirt?" It's always some fat guy who should know better. And the fact that, for some bizarre reason, they're now called "wife beaters" should make all men decide to never wear one.
Is my daughter really the most beautiful girl in the world, or is it just my world?
Why, when I love most foods, are there some that I just can't eat because of their texture? Jello? Fiddleheads? Okra? Raw oysters? Ugh.
Why does my 85 lb. dog feel like he weighs double that when he insists upon sitting on my lap?
My doctor is the only person in the world, other than me, who knows how much I really weigh.
Why can kids get away with saying things that adults would never consider saying? And why do I think it's cute? A few examples: "I hope when I'm a grown-up I look just like you............without the double chin." "You used to be skinny, then you were fat (pregnant), now you're medium." "Mrs. C., I know you're a way lot older than my mom, but you sure don't act it." "My mom dyes her hair to make it the same color as mine" leaving me to explain that my hair was, in fact, the same color as hers until it started turning sssshhh...gray. And my all-time favorite "Mom, why do so many of the other moms have blue lines all over their legs, but yours are just nice and smooth?"
Why, no matter how hard I try to be a cool Auntie, can I not learn to like hip-hop/rap? I just can't find anything redeeming about it. I'm not too fond of country either, but when traveling to the south I can get into the spirit of it.
Why is my 11-year-old son suddenly asking me to not shop at Wal-Mart (when I don't shop there anyway), to buy only organic food, and to please not vote for Sheldon Whitehouse in the next election? Where did my baby go?
Why, oh why, do news programs constantly scroll those words along the bottom of the screen? Don't they know I can't do two things at once (watch and read)? Last night after everyone was asleep (no news when kids are awake), I decided to watch a little Anderson Cooper and ended up reading all that junk at the bottom of the screen. Today, I couldn't even tell you what Mr. Cooper was talking about.
Why is it okay when your own kid spits, snots, or vomits on you, but if someone else does it, it's enough to make you spit, snot or vomit yourself?
Why does my list of places I'd like to go keep getting longer instead of shorter?
Ditto for the list of things I'd like to do.
Why can you take the girl out of marketing, but can't take marketing out of the girl? The secret is out. Yup, that's my "capitalist pig" background.
Why do I feel comfortable telling total (or not so total), virtual strangers the parts of my life that I would never discuss with anyone in my real life?
Just a few things I think about. There's a million more, equally inane and inconsequential. But I still think about them anyway.
8 Comments:
Maybe the question is more, why do you not tell someone you are close to? Isn't this part of the definition of "close" in the interpersonal sense?
But we are here, and on my part, enjoy your writing (capitalist or not). You do seem of a very related nature to MaryB.
Peter, always challenging. Why do I not tell someone I am close to? I suppose that some things seem too personal or just too plain stupid to even voice out loud. Maybe because I've always been worried about what other people will think (sad but true). The blogging world, and you in particular, seem non-judgmental (opinionated to the extreme, yes, judgmental, no). I will have to think about this some more.
I would agree about being similar in some ways to MaryB. It's sort of freaky when I read her stuff sometimes. Things you probably couldn't imagine given what you know about my background. I'm a bad girl gone good.
And about being a "capitalist pig," that was what my social worker sister used to call me. I know that you're different, being creative and all that, but as I know you also make money doing it, and you've alluded to some investments, you're a capitalist too, just not in such an obvious way. It's what we do with our money (and our time) that counts.
P.S. There's a lighthouse for sale in RI. Hog Island Light. They're taking bids on line, if you're interested.
Oh you are rotten, lighthouse for sale, and the current bid is 25k! Man, you will make me crazy!
Don't go too crazy (now you understand how good natured our friend was)! The lighthouse needs a lot of work. For more info, check out the Providence Journal on line at projo.com. Search for Hog Island Light. Click on the fifth article. Then in the box in upper left corner, click on read story.
Peter, I've thought about your question some more. I do tell people that I am close to most things. But there are some things, like the recent situation with husband, that I simply do not wish to share. I told my one friend who I thought would be empathetic (I know she's trustworthy), but she just got pissed off and suggested some things I could never do. I'm still pretty mad myself, but I'd NEVER. I don't need anyone else knowing my business or being mad at him. Frankly, besides being hurtful, it's also extremely embarrassing. So SOME (few) things are more easily shared with "strangers." Part of it is my background too, I'm sure. "Don't talk about it." You know, most of my extended family still thinks that I was working overseas during my month at rehab. That's how my parents wanted it, because they know how judgmental some members of my family can be (they're all so perfect). How's that for sharing the truth? And here I am today. Dumping on you. Feel free to reciprocate any time.
Hey! What happened to the cool photo? Their agent said you would need a release? I just came by to point you towards this gals blog, she is a writer on a television series, here in LA. But she had a blog that made me think of yours.
I had second thoughts about the photo. What else is new? Cute kids though, eh?
And thanks for the tip!
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