Like a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce.

I think I’ve talked about this before in a previous prompt, but when it comes to crises or trouble or disasters, I’m not the person you should look to for steady, calm leadership.  It’s one of many reasons why I could never be President.  It’s not that I’d be running around screaming like I was on fire, but it’s more that I’m not very good at thinking on my feet, and situations like that require someone who can quickly formulate a plan and implement it — that’s not me.  I’ve never been a good leader, in the sense of getting people to follow directions or listen to me.  I don’t have the right kind of personality for that, and if shit’s going down, you need someone like that taking charge so that whatever needs to happen, happens.  I wish I was like that, but I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

I’m no fashion model.

Style for me is more about function over form.  That doesn’t mean I want to dress in ill-fitting or ugly clothes, rather that it’s more important that the clothes fit and cover me than necessarily look like something that crawled out of Vogue.  I’ve never been into trends or dressing like celebrities do, mostly because I cannot afford to buy clothes like that, nor can I fit into them, at least not right now.  Heavy people don’t really have a ton of options when it comes to where they can shop, so I’m limited to what I can buy and what I can wear.  If you opened up my closet doors, you’d see a lot of tank tops/camisoles, which I wear with a short-sleeved bolero sweater in the cooler months, a section of tops to wear for work, work trousers, skirts, and then other casual short-sleeved tops that I cannot wear to work.  All of them are in pretty basic colors; black, gray, navy blue, white, and an occasional bright blue or pink.  I favor darker colors because they look better on me than neons or pastels do.  Nothing is form-fitting.  All my shirts come down to my hips, or at least a few inches past my navel.  I’m a boring dresser, and I admit it, but I’d rather be boring and wear clothes that fit me than be exciting and wear clothes that don’t.

Silence is golden.

I’m sure you’ve all heard the joke, “Silence may be golden, but duct tape is silver.”  I’m in no way advocating taping anyone’s mouth shut with duct tape, as that stuff can rip off skin when you try to remove it.  I just thought it was a good lead-in for what I’m actually going to talk about.  For me, silence IS golden.  I love to talk to others (provided I have something worthwhile to say), but I also enjoy complete and utter quiet as well.  I don’t like being surrounded by noise all the time.  My brain needs time to decompress and wind down, especially at night, and being around chatterboxes 24/7 would drive me insane.

To start with, I don’t always have something to say.  I don’t talk just to hear the sound of my own voice.  If someone asks me a question or engages me in conversation, I’ll happily chat away with them, but I don’t just randomly initiate anything, nor do I prattle on past the point of having anything worthwhile to contribute.  As such, I find huge chunks of the day going by where I haven’t said a word to anyone about anything.  Secondly, I don’t think the absence of conversation means something is amiss.   Read More

One foot in front of the other.

My sister and I enjoy taking hikes in the spring/autumn because the weather is more conducive to lengthy outdoor exercise, and one of our favorite places to go is Pilot Mountain.  We’ve hiked around the top of it before, and aside from being careful not to stray too close to the edge, as there are no railings anywhere to keep you from plummeting off the side, it’s a relatively easy walk.  There is some moderate climbing required, in the sense that you’re hauling yourself up pretty steep steps in some locations, but it’s nothing that her and I couldn’t handle, and we’re both out of shape and overweight.  So, if we can do it, someone in better condition than us should be able to make us appear to be standing still.  There are also a lot of nature trails and little greenways around where we live, and we’ve walked/hiked them more than a few times……always in the spring or autumn when it’s not stinky hot and humid.  The last thing I want to do is sweat my ass off walking through overgrown foliage.  I love being outside, letting the fresh air swirl around me.  I highly recommend that if you live anywhere near a national park or even just a park in general, you get out and walk around.  Not only is the exercise good for you, but being around other people, seeing trees and grass and flowers……it’s better than sitting on your ass in the house playing video games or watching mindless reality TV.  Be better than that.

Proud to be political.

I was raised by my parents to be informed about the world around me.  When I was in grammar school, I could tell you who the mayor of Chicago was, who our governor was, and who our neighborhood alderman was.  I didn’t get interested in national politics until I was in high school, but even before then, I could say who our senators and representatives were.  It boggles my mind when kids nowadays know jack shit about government, politics, and civics, to say nothing of adults knowing equally as much.  I just don’t understand how you can want your children to be ignorant.  There’s a difference between political and knowledgeable, however.  Knowing who their state’s Congresscritters are or who the President/Vice-President are should suffice.  I don’t like when I see younger kids screaming slogans and chanting, regardless of which side they’re on.  Leave that irritating shit to adults.  99% of the time, they have no idea what they’re saying, or what effect it’s having on other people, and I hate seeing little kids used as props because their parents are too cowardly to do it themselves.

When it comes to adults who have no idea what the hell is going on, that just depresses me to the point I almost laugh.  How you can live in this country and pay taxes in this country and not know the barest basics of how government or politics work should be shameful and embarrassing, yet it never is.  These are the people constantly bitching about how they don’t like what’s happening, but they don’t get off their asses to vote for people to do the things they want to see happen.

I’d love to see compulsory voting instituted in the United States.  All citizens 18 and older who haven’t been convicted of a felony will be required to vote, and if they don’t, they should be forced to scrub toilets in a homeless shelter or something.  Enough of this shit.  If you’re going to live in this country, you’re going to damn well give a damn.

How many days ’til Thanksgiving?

Thanksgiving is huge in our house because it’s just the four of us and my sister’s boyfriend, so it’s always special to have the five of us sat around the table with loads of tasty vittles in front of us.  Maybe if we had a large family we saw all the time, it would be less of a big deal, but because it’s just us, that makes it more special, I think.  My sister and I always end up telling The Turkey Story™ to anyone who will listen, even though it didn’t actually happen in real life the way the tale says it did.  When my dad was little, his aunt was taking the turkey out of the oven and dropped it on the floor.  She picked it up, cleaned it off, and stuck it back in the pan.  However, the story alleges the turkey slid into the bathroom on a tidal wave of gravy and bounced off the tub….which didn’t really happen, but no one cares.  As my dad tells it, he and my uncle have told that story so many times now, they actually remember it happening that way.  I don’t care that I’ve heard that story probably a thousand times since I was a kid.  It’s still funny.

I break sometimes.

I’m not as strong in some ways, physically or mentally, as I’d like to be.  There’s definitely an aspect of weakness that I possess that I wish I didn’t, and it can sometimes be difficult to deal with. I wouldn’t say that I fall apart at the drop of a hat, but I don’t have the tough constitution that other people do, especially people in my family.  It’s one of those things I’ve struggled with most of my life, and it’s something I consider a continual work in progress.  I’m never entirely where I want to be, but I suppose I should look at that as a positive, because it’s always giving me something to work toward.  Everyone needs that extra kick in the ass to get up every morning, and for me, that’s one of them.

Worst. Read. Ever.

Gravity’s Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon is often considered one of the greatest pieces of American literature in the 20th century.

I’ll be damned if I can figure out why.

It’s not the worst book I’ve ever read, that honor goes to a few other tomes, but it is by far the worst read I’ve ever forced myself to get through.  I’m one of those people who, when they start something, finishes it, even if it damn near kills them, and this was one of those times.  It’s a very long book, with complicated jump cuts from plot point to plot point, and you go from one character speaking to another when neither are in the same scene…it’s like riding a roller coaster backwards, upside down, and blindfolded.  You never know where the hell you are at any given point in time.  I started reading the book in 2009, and I finally finished it about 3 years later.  It took me that long to finally get through it.  I’d read for a while, throw the book at the wall, then not pick it up for months.  Then, I’d feel like crap about that, pick it up again, read some more, get angry again…so forth and so on.  It felt like a never-ending vicious cycle, but I was committed to seeing it through to the end, which I did.  I will never, that being said, ever read the book again.  If I tried, I’d probably have a nervous breakdown.

Out of touch old person here.

I know I’m only 34, but sometimes I feel a lot older than that.  It seems like teenagers today are entirely different animals to what teenagers were like when I was that age, which was only 16 years ago.  I mean, that’s the last year of Clinton’s administration.  By Clinton I mean Bill, since, you know, we’ll have to differentiate between the two.  I don’t know how much social media is the culprit for this, but I’d have to imagine it’s rather high.  We didn’t have YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, Tinder, Instagram, Snapchat, or even MySpace (remember that??) when I was in high school.  There were no smartphones.  No one I knew even owned a cell phone of their own.  I didn’t even have my own computer until I started my sophomore year of college.  I feel like teenagers/young adults nowadays take a lot of stuff for granted, on top of being insufferably smug about many other things.  You know the expression, “Youth is wasted on the young”?  Well, I think there’s some truth to that.

Also, can someone please explain to me what “on fleek” means?  I mentioned it in my post yesterday, and I’ve talked about the expression in earlier posts, but I’ll be damned if after all this time I’ve managed to figure out what the hell it means, particularly in relation to one’s eyebrows.  I assume it’s a positive statement, meant to denote something attractive, but who decided to come up with a whole new expression just for eyebrows?  That’s such a random, inane thing.