Hey guys. Writing this evening so I can concentrate on other things tomorrow as we head into Super Bowl weekend. This is the weirdest time of the year if you’re not a huge hockey fan, which has sort of prompted me to learn more about the game and try to go down to the Verizon Center when I can so I can handle the few months between the end of football and the beginning of baseball. I’ll admit: hockey doesn’t do it for me on tv. I try to like it. I really do. But it is, in my opinion, a game that must be seen live to be appreciated. I feel the same way about basketball. They are both amazing if you can be there to absorb the physical energy of the action. As for soccer — the two years I played in high school gave me an appreciation for the game but I still find it mostly very boring. (sorry Hallissey. Who, by the way, I randomly saw last night at the work Happy Hour place as he was there watching his beloved Spurs play [that’s the Tottenham Hotspur F.C. to the uninitiated]. He even met some of the work-related people and was a hit with his English accent and charm. Good on you Matt. See you Sunday for the Big Game.) Anyway, had kind of a weird experience today and I just wanted to hash it out…
So, I’m a bit of an emotional ping pong at the moment. It happens to ladies. Not an excuse, just a reality. So I’ve noticed a certain — um, touchiness? — in myself lately as regards things I really shouldn’t — and on most days, don’t — care about. And I actually hate that I even let stuff like this get into my head at all. But sometimes…sometimes I do. Because I’m kind of a ginger, more on the auburn side, but with all the freckles and fire. And, as mentioned, a little on the emotional side lately. So basically, I offer that as a lame reason I almost said to a gentleman today — a perfect stranger — that he should really rethink being such a horrific tool in public.
I was working in a coffee shop up the street this morning and made the tragic mistake of not immediately putting my head phones on and rocking out to Bach (work music of choice). Because I had the displeasure of overhearing a conversation between a young woman and a slightly older guy that made me want to alternately laugh aloud/throw my coffee stirrer at the dude’s head. He started by putting her down — that weird “negging” thing immature dudes do that, I think, is supposed to make their subsequent compliments seem AMAZING following as they are on the heels of some not-so-subtle digs. And it was painful because the young lady was clearly embarrassed, speaking in very low tones, because everyone in the immediate vicinity could hear this guy telling her that she would be more attractive if she didn’t act crazy all the time and that she looked nice but that her outfit was maybe a little tight on her (hint, hint). Augh. My heart just went out to her. And the rastafarian immediately behind them looked up, cocked an eyebrow, and exchanged a “what the hell?” glance with me. I just shook my head and smiled because what are ya gonna do? And it went on…guy started talking about how she should be more like him, he had an ego, everyone knew it, and people liked and respected him for it. And that he liked her but she was going to have to up her game if she wanted to be on his arm because that was what people expected of him and blah, blah, blah. All said with a charming little smile. She meekly took offense a few times but it was obvious that this guy had her convinced that he could help her or something. I don’t know. And as I sat there and watched them it suddenly occurred to me: the guy (not man. definitely not.) was a terrified, insecure mess of a human being but was either totally unaware of it or completely unwilling to admit it. And he liked this girl he was publicly shaming and desperately wanted her approval. But he was leaving no room in the conversation, and giving her no reason, to offer it. At one point he even looked over at me and gave me that same grin like, “look what I can do. You interested?” It actually made me feel insane for a few minutes, which is how I know I could never be a therapist. I can barely negotiate my own crazy. Talking to people like this guy would have me speaking in tongues in short order. I wanted to just look over and say, “Stop. Just stop. You’re ridiculous. No one likes or respects your ego. They may tolerate it for their own reasons but they don’t like it and they probably don’t like you either. And Miss, you’re objectively about 20 times hotter than this fool and I think the rasta guy behind you agrees with me so why don’t you remind him that, of the two of you, you could walk out the door and find someone who thinks that dress fits you perfectly while he’d have to go on the hunt for someone who didn’t want to slap that silly grin off his face. Also, he seems kind of dumb.”
Of course I didn’t do that. And they got quieter and ultimately left, the girl rather defeated while he had a little swagger in his step. And my hormonally challenged little self flashed back to conversations and interactions I’ve had over the years with people — not just guys — but people who are driven to have some kind of upper hand in all relationships, even the insignificant and transitory ones, lest they become vulnerable. And human. My friends tease me sometimes — as recently as Monday in fact — that I think about this stuff. “Deep thoughts with Sarah,” said my friend Bailey a few days ago. Not the first time he’s said that. But I can’t help it. I felt so bad for that girl. As for the guy — I suppose I felt bad for him, too. But I also think the best thing that could happen to him is a dose of his own medicine. Something like this. You may think this is hokey — I kind of do, too — but my sister told me about this book she read once where this guy was electrocuted and died. He was so dead they had wheeled him down to the hospital morgue before he woke up. And the story he told of his experience — he was apparently something of a real jerk before this happened — was that he was forced to live his entire life from the perspective of the other people in his life. So everything he had done to others he had to feel as if he was them on the receiving end of his behavior. Long story short, he dedicated his life to making amends and becoming a kinder person. I think that dude would benefit from something like that. (not that I wish him electrocution or anything. That would just be hateful.) Anyway, the lesson I took away from it all was “wear your headphones Sarah.”
Okay, other things.
A very sharp fellow I know posted this. I’m no economist but this doesn’t seem right to me.
A guy on facebook invited people to defriend him if they used the word “justice” in relation to the DOJ seeking the death penalty for the Boston bomber. He said “revenge” is the word you mean. I invite you to read the link above, click all the links contained therein, do an image search of Jeff Bauman being wheeled away from the scene with bloody stumps, look at pictures of the 8 year old boy this evil bastard dropped his bag behind, and then talk to me about revenge versus justice with your pompous judgment. I hope Tsarnaev gets exactly what his own culture dictates is appropriate: an eye for an eye. Also, I’m defriending that dude.
“Noble intentions cannot make prime numbers like five or seven divisible.” True.
Yeah, just read this. Some people really don’t inhabit the same planet as everyone else, do they?
No one has ever struggled like us, scrabbling and clawing our way all the way from going-nowhere pit of the upper middle class to the exalted lowest rungs of the upper class.
Had a good cry over this and felt better about things. These two girls are just precious. Still pulling for the Broncos but I think Coleman could teach his teammate Sherman a thing or two.
Bagpipes just hit me somewhere deep, deep down.
