A Taste of My Own Meds

Every now and again, I find myself getting a taste of my own medicine. Nothing big, just little things here and there that keep me on my toes. Now, you'd think that these moments of recognition would make me repentant. After all, I'm feeling essentially the same feelings that my behavior inflicts on others, which should open my eyes and make me a better person.

But, as you might have expected, considering my rather suggestive lead-in, this isn't exactly what happens.

Let's just say that, hypothetically, I am not very good at texting in general, but I'm pretty bad about texting back. It's not always intentional. Sometimes I just get distracted, think I've responded, and forget, or I delete the text and forget to respond to it. You know how it goes! There are all kinds of things that can happen that prevent me from texting back in a timely fashion! Whatever. It's not a big deal. Anyways, we're going to move ahead with this hypothetical situation and  say that I got a text that started a conversation that, hypothetically, I had been rather hoping would start, and that I had actually been planning on starting myself, except for the part that I hadn't done it yet (because, ya know, bad at texting).

Let us suppose that this hypothetical conversation was going pretty well for a few texts. Pretty normal, just chill ... And then SMACK--it collides with the no-text-back-brick-wall in glorious slow-motion. Let's say, hypothetically, that for once, it's not me who has failed to text back. Rather, I'm the one who ends up with my unsuspecting face slowly being smeared all over this little wall we've got going on.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait a second! Hold your horses! You should know that I am not--absolutely NOT-- hypothetically strung out over this hypothetical conversation. I am by no means hypothetically smeared over anything. If this hypothetical situation were actually my real life, my feelings would be nowhere near that dramatic. But I'm really running in the opposite direction of my ultimate point here (which, in case you hadn't noticed, seems to happen to every single blog post I write. I swear, this thing should have a subheading, "DANGER: TANGENTIAL WATERS AHEAD!" or "The Long and Extremely Indirect Run Leading to an Only Mildly Comical and Frankly Rather Stupid Slide" ... and now I've tangented from my tangent ... Oh my land ... ).

Let's get back on the pony, shall we? Just so I can finally make this one stupid point I'm trying to make.

And that is this:
(if you're from Colorado Springs, you just read this is Bish. P's voice...)

As a bad texter-backer, hypothetical situations like these in which I don't get texted back in a timely fashion should be inspirations for reform, repentance, and recovery from my unfortunate plight. But that's not what happens. Nope, not at all. When I get a taste of my own meds, like this hypothetical texting situation, I don't find myself repentant at all. Nay, I find myself thinking, "Wow! This actually works!" 


And instead of being cheesed about the whole dang hypothetical thang, I'm proud and impressed, both with myself, and the party who happens to be subjecting me to this medical treatment. 

Go figure.

And for goodness' sake, text me back already. 

I'm Practically Famous

Guys, I'm practically famous!!!!***


(***If you're using a really loose definition of "practically" ... and "famous" ...).

I'm in a music video. Of sorts. And it's only on YouTube. And the guy's not really famous much at all.

BUT... I'm still in it. So. Whatever. At like 0:06.

Yay. I'm so cool, y'all.

Except not really. Just enjoy the novelty of this moment.

A Tribute Post to L

I realize this is totally out of character for me, as a "blogger" (I don't think I've ever thought about that term in relation to myself before, and I find I don't really like it) ... but I'm going to do it anyways. 

Today, my blog post is a tribute to a friend from a long, long time ago. We haven't talked or seen each other since I was like ten, we've been Facebook friends for less than six months... the long and short of it is that I don't really know this girl at all. 

But really, I do. 

Since I don't want to be creepy, I'm not going to use her name (which maybe makes it more creepy? But for some reason makes me feel less creepy ... idk). We're just going to call her L. 

For the few years that I knew L,we were pretty good buddies. She was a grade ahead of me in school, she was smart, beautiful, talented, awesome, and so much fun. I loved her family, and I still look up to her mom as an example of the kind of mom I want to be, because she was the kind of lady who didn't let anything her kids did get her fussed. She would sit out on their driveway with a loaf of bread, a knife, and peanut butter and jelly, and she would just make sandwiches while her kids were out playing. She had all kinds of funky traditions that were just fun without being a pain in the butt. It was awesome, and truly inspiring. 

L was one of the people I always wanted to be like, and now that I know what she's doing with her life (hats off to you, Facebook), I find myself even more inspired by the life she lives. I'm inspired by the things that I can tell she does or doesn't care about. I'm inspired by the adventures she takes, and the inexplicable vibe that I get about her perspective on life. I realize I'm being vague, but if I were less vague, I'd feel creepy ... Let's just leave it here:

L, you're never going to read this, but you're totally awesome and I am so grateful for the person that you are and have been. Thanks for inspiring me for the past ... what, thirteen years? Something like that. :)

A Rant: "Like"

It seems to me that there's always at least one person in a class who frequently feels compelled to comment, and who, unfortunately, also grates massively on your nerves. Perhaps it's just the simple fact that they seem always to have something to say that is truly bothersome and inspires you to look for other reasons to want to plug your ears and shout "LA LA LA LA LA" every time their hand goes up in the air ... but we all know that we find those other reasons. Whether or not this is the case for you, I will leave to your own interpretation of yourself. But for me, whether this is the true reason that I'm bothered by one of my dear classmates' comments, or simply a justifying cover-up for the fact that I seem to glean nothing from the words that come out of her mouth, I don't really care about right now. Because the fact that I'm hung up on right now is that this girl cannot eradicate the word "like" from her vocabulary.

Am I being oversensitive? I mean, lots of people use the word "like" in ways that extend beyond its dictionary definition, and they do so with very high frequency, compared to other words. "Like" has become our space filler, the word that comes out of our mouths when we realize we don't know the word we really want to say, the word that seems to indicate an impending metaphor ... but not really. I could go on, but I'll just stop for the time being, because I'm sure, scientific minds that you all have, want some evidence to support my point, and not just my own unadulterated irritation.

Last class, I took it upon myself to tally the number of times she said "like" in one comment. In one comment, probably lasting 30-45 seconds, she said the word "like" 32 times. It doesn't even seem possible, does it? But let me tell you how possible it is. There were moments when I could barely finish one tally before I had to put two more down. There were a lot of "and like, it's like" and "and it's just like" and sometimes some "and like, it's like, just like" ... (And I won't even mention (beyond this single moment) how many "ya know?"s there were smushed in there as well). I know, it's sounds like I'm kidding. But I assure you, I am 100%, bet-your-bottom-dollar, I'm-going-to-claw-my-eyes-out serious about this girl. I'm amazed that she could actually convey a message that was so watered down with "like". It was truly horrific.

And that being said, I'm going to pass you over to Taylor Mali, who is (1) a perfectly fantastic slam poet and personal favorite, (2) full of words of wisdom on how we do, and should, converse.

First Video: for the purposes of my own message, I recommend watching the first minute or so. You can keep watching if you want to hear his poem (which I also recommend) "Any Language Much Less English"



Second Video: I've posted this here before, but it's just fantastic, so I'm posting it again. You should watch all of this one, and enjoy the beautiful typography. :)




He's brilliant. I wish everyone would watch these things. Can you even imagine how much better comments in class would be?

:)

Stupid Sarcasm

Maybe I'm just imagining things, but I've been seeing the following pop up in a lot (and I mean a LOT) of status updates on Facebook. Maybe you're familiar with it. It goes a little something like this:

" That awkward moment when your sarcasm is so advanced that people actually think you are stupid! "

Now, maybe I'm a meanie, but I often find myself tempted to leave the following in the comments:

" That awkward moment when your stupid is so advanced that you actually think you're sarcastic. "

 Oh my honeys ... Please leave the building. Just ... please.