Alright, so I never had any intention of using this forum as my personal diary and hopefully I’ll cut it out. But after I write about this because it’s been on my mind…
Two young men I met recently gently informed me that I tend to batter people over the head with my personality, specifically my need to prove to people how smart I am. I felt pretty cruddy about this for a few days — not because they told me (they weren’t snarky about it and I asked) — but because I had this horrible, sickening twist in the belly thinking I was like one of those people that you can’t wait to be away from.
But here’s the thing, like Lloyd Dobler in Say Anything (Lloyd, Lloyd, all null and void — Bob I can hear you laughing), I talk when I’m nervous. And why do Lloyd and I do this?
The particular instance I believe they were referring to had me martyring myself on the cross of fringe social behavior (well, not really fringe. I wasn’t like hanging from the ceiling or anything. Just engaging in a bit of prodding and poking to get reactions). It had little to nothing to do with some pathological need to prove my genius (heh, heh); it just so happens that mental acuity was the game at hand — quite literally — and so it was how the shake-up manifested itself. What I mean to say is that “proper” conduct and social niceties bore the ever lovin’ spit out of me. I think that’s why I’ve always liked Jane Austen and whoever wrote Gosford Park. They are so adept at pointing out the insidiousness and silliness of social convention. And so, I shake it up if I can, even if it means becoming a pariah in the process. In the moment (especially after a few beers…) I search for a way out of a situation I feel suffocating by causing a mini-riot, which is a lot safer than say, shooting up heroin or being overtly promiscuous to name a few extreme examples of how other people deal with this need to rebel. Some people hate me for it. And some love me. And so be it. Amen.
At first, I thought this tendency was in direct contrast to my hatred of the drama that I posted about the other day. But really, it’s not so much about the drama. It’s about stepping out of the “supposed to.” I was actually secretly hoping someone would chuck a lamp at me or something. Let’s get this party started ya’ll!
As I get older, I realize that little earthquakes are the safest way to rebel. Rumble, rumble. Sometimes it’s hard to reconcile a conservative nature with the unmitigated need to rebel against the everyday. I’m certain there’s a way to do it and I just haven’t thought of it yet. But I will because, didn’t I tell you, I’m a genius…
And, while irrelevant to the topic at hand, this just cracked me up:
(from Cute Overload)
With a turtle name like “Wesley”, you pretty much HAVE to go with a macho costume on Halloween. I bet all the turtle ladies in the tank are like—”OMG, who’s the hottie?” and whipping out their little Turtle Sidekicks to text him.
Reegahdless, Wesley has snapped up Best Turtle Costume on the Planet Ever as far as I’m concerned. Also, I think his nose has a hole in it. Just sayin’.
Gravel snorts to sender-inner Jennfer H., and toitle owners Craig and Melanie :^)
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