AMBUSH!
OH NO!
Yes. It was a capital letter event.
A stranger for the first time while at the house of an acquaintance. We had plans for dinner. Plans that originally were not meant to overlap but ended up that way.
Okay, whatever.
Over dinner this strange woman basically starts the conversation off on, what very much felt like an attack.
Right off.
Sitting across the table I was immediately unhappy. Something had been rubbing me not altogether the right way about her from the moment she came in. This was no longer a rub but a sharp jab or like digging finger nails in to my skin. It was not okay at all.
Religion.
It was about religion.
Immediately asking about when/where I go to church. I knew as soon as I answered honestly (like I was going to lie?) it was all over. I knew from the force, speed, and tone in the way she asked the question. I knew I was being attacked. The look in the eyes, the troops were already gathered and prepared for war. I also immediately made a judgement and decided I did not like this person based on how she went immediately and aggressively on the offensive.
"Oh, &#(@!" probably would've been the right mental response but I couldn't be bothered to focus on that. I had to figure out how to get out of this fast before it snowballed.
To no avail, I tried to be nice about it. After a few questions I politely indicated that I was not comfortable talking about religion.
Taking no for an answer wasn't in the deck of cards she had.
Dang it.
So...I suffered through it, more or less taking the smile and nod approach (maybe without as much smiling) until she had said everything she wanted to say.
It sucked. A lot.
If the other company had been different (like if it had been my family) I would have been much more likely to give the person a defensive piece of my mind. As in, "Hey, either you respect my boundaries of you go fly a kite. Eff off."
Well, that would be an awfully nice way to put it and I wouldn't swear at them. I just don't.
But I know that I could have become vicious about it if pressed. (Like she continued to do! Please, when I say no remember No MEANS NO! It does not mean yes or continue!)
[Edit 30-Jan-2014: Not respecting my no? I felt that was disrespectful to treat another person that way. If you cannot respect my boundaries than I don't want anything to do with you. In retrospect I should have said something about how if she wanted to continue pushing she should know the following:
Or worst case I could have said, "Look, if you won't be respectful of my boundaries then this isn't a safe place for me now. Please excuse me, I hate to leave in the middle of dinner but I won't stay in a hostile environment."]
I remember being very vicious when I was young. Especially in therapy. Oh boy! I had a very negative view of the family sessions. I didn't see any good come of them and I made that view plainly known. I would rip someone to shreds if that was what it took and I had few if any qualms about doing it. When doing that I normally had a very dark look, you might call it a death glare due to its intensity. I stopped all that long ago. I don't remember why.
But I was thinking about it while she continued to press me on a topic I was neither comfortable discussing or that I felt I could evade. I was at the dinner table! Eating! Seriously! I felt it was incredibly rude. If I'd been in the living room I could have gotten up, paced or even found a way to leave the room. Heck, in a pinch I could have said, "Look, I'm really sorry. I have to go. [Person I was visiting] I'll get back to you [day] about [issue]. Take care!" and run away. Literally. I would have gone to my friend who had shown up first no doubt. Trying to evade without leaving completely. Sometimes people will get the hint that way.
I knew that the others there...were all of a different mind than I was. I was alone effectively behind enemy lines on this topic.
Which...seriously. I have issues with. Events like this only make me like the subject less and increase the chances that I will never want to have anything to do with organized religion in any sense ever. Plus the people that will discuss it calmly (This was not calmly, her voice, tone, speed, timbre, and eyes all said that very plainly. This was passionate. Blind passion like a charging bull that sees only red.) seem to either be few and far between or non-existent.
I feel like I could stereotype people who take their faith seriously and I don't like that I've seen enough examples of so many commonalities between people who feel that way or describe themselves that way. I don't like that I can stereotype them. I learned that was wrong when I was young. I never wanted to do that. I wanted to give everyone a chance.
I thought I remembered reading something about some of the correlations a study found between people who had faith and those who did not. One of the things that surfaces--and it's terrible that this is the one that comes to mind first--was that those who believe in god tend to not be...as smart, those who did not believe or had little faith in god. (Whether we are talking the capitalized God or any non-capitalized god(s). (Did I really just call this out? Was clarifying that I may have also meant it with a capital but didn't want to write it twice called for? (For readability: yes) Seriously.))
What an awful thing to remember.
Why do so many of them seem to be so blind-sighted by their faith that all other reason becomes meaningless?
The fall back is always: If you had faith you would understand.
Really? That is the best you have?
That's not a valid argument. You might as well tell me, "Because."
And if I feel five years old I'll retort with, "Because why?"
It's a retort I am all too familiar with. I've used it plenty.
If you remember, my favourite question when I was young was why.
This afternoon something crossed my mind concerning a decision I had made for myself when I was young (I dunno, maybe eight years old?) that I wanted to write about but of course I didn't get a chance to write it down and now I've gotten so distracted by the relentless attack that the other thing is lurking in the shadows of my mind.
My mind, which some times is...well, hyperactive might be a good way to describe it when it's working on a bunch of things at once. Not all at the same speed and of course there are times where it will get wind of something shiny and...well, off it goes to get distracted by that or a butterfly that is fluttering by but as that is happening other thoughts are still occurring alongside the distracted idea of whimsy.
WHIMSY.
How does it get the whim-zee sound? It's s and a y and not z and a double e. It's not even an s and a double e. What gives? No, don't answer that. I'm not really that worked up to get into the specifics of the English language and why certain letter combinations lead to words that do not sound like you would anticipate if you look at them and try to do things phonetically.
That was a butterfly.
P.S. Daily communication is hard when it feels like you are the only one working on it!
DANG!
It reminds me of how difficult trying to entertain the Lumberjack used to be when she was at school. If I was too quiet I'd get poked and that meant I'd better say something (anything!) to keep her from being bored. (Uh...?) I didn't think that was my job and if I was reading something/thinking about something/off in my own world(mind) I didn't see the need to always be making noise. So naturally being so quiet making noise all the time was really difficult for me. I remember how much effort I had to put in to that. It was tough!
Right now I've been communicating with someone that...I feel is putting the bare minimum amount of effort in. What's worse is when I say something or ask a question and get ignored. Um. Do not think I will forget that. You may like me but I'd rather be alone than be unhappy. This kind of communication can quickly lead to me being unhappy. No point in being in a relationship that you aren't enjoying or happy in. (Which might explain why the Lumberjack and I didn't talk for stretches at a time. I may have needed the time and space to basically reset so that when we [inevitably] re-connected I could be happy with things.)
Which reminds me of seeing things long-distance. It's just a faint hint of a shadow in the fog so far away that nobody else can tell the tree from the forest. I, on the other hand, will not only see the tree and be able to make out its shape but also will know what kind it is.
One of those things is I remember when we would fight. It didn't take very long for me to realize that we would reconnect. It seemed like she was always the one initiating contact again after these events. I'm certain I called that out at least once.
Or one time at the movie theater (oh, those were...well, not in that building, those were not the days) and I had gone downstairs to find one of the girls that worked there in civies at the bottom of the stairs. I said something, rather offhandedly as I recalled, asking what was wrong I think, because it was clear to me she was upset.
I guess nobody else noticed? Or acknowledged it? I wasn't the only one there that night. There were plenty of other managers there so...yeah. One of which she was dating and was the cause of the pain she was feeling. For me it was written plain as day on her face and in her body language. I find it difficult to believe that everyone else there was blind to it.
She was shocked. Very surprised I even noticed muchless that I had put together some of what could be the cause. (Yay for points for figuring part of it out without being told! But like the show Whose Line Is It Anyway, the points don't matter.)
This entry is quickly becoming like a paint by numbers picture. You start with one dot, then you connect to the next and suddenly you are leaping about the page, springing from point to point as you pounce upon the required lines to create some fine art and then you must paint and be sure to at least once forget to stay inside the lines.
Because lines are for people who like rules.
And yes, rules are meant to be broken.
Oh my gosh, that was such a bad example. Comparing being preached to in an environment where you are not allowed and are discouraged from asking questions to obeying a stop sign.
Yeeah, I'm going to go with: Absolutely not the same. Not even close.
As soon as the first question was out barely a bite into dinner (the despair that flashed across my mind as I immediately saw what was next and hoped it would be possible to cut it off at the pass (You could describe that next realization as an intuitive kind of, "Oh noes, it's come true and not it's only going to get progressively worse. I'd rather try and survive a crossing of the fire swap and take my chances with the R.O.U.S.es." except instead of that in word-form take it instead in more or a feeling that's...sort of a gut response realized in the flash of a portion of a second.)
Great, now I've gone full circle. I might try to zig-zag or circle away from this but I've been writing for an hour now and I want to go to bed. I would turn up the heat but...what's the point? It'll drop back down ten degrees (less if you love metric...well, kind of but not really since it all feels the same no matter what label you apply to the temperature (Oh my gosh, do I really need to be so nitpicky?!)) once I set the thermostat back to where it is now.
Plus flannel sheets and blankets are great.
The only thing missing is an electric one that I can put right above the sheet to warm the bed before I climb in instead of getting in and finding myself cold because there is no heater in the bedroom. (Awww.) I could use a fan to blow it through the door but I don't care enough since the second I fall asleep it won't matter anymore. Why waste the resources that I won't appreciate when I'm sleeping?
Truth be told I'm more likely to count how many times the heater turns on during the night and in the back of my mind (there are some parts that must never rest) I'd know that I was wasting fuel. Squandering it even. What a great word.
This entry has become the written form of my current stream of consciousness. Capturing as much as I can in a meaningful (That's debatable; I don't mean a way that carries personal meaning for anyone, myself included, so much as I mean in a way that could stand some chance of being understood. I can't show you a video of shapes or sounds you don't recognize to have any meaning (either arranged as words/speech or music/song. I can't describe things I perceive as being intuitive--which is probably most everything I consider common sense. Which was also on my mind earlier (concerning a profile I wanted to respond to) and...yeah.
It is way past my bedtime.
Which, like a rule without a good reason (those are the worst rules), I've gone right ahead and broken.
Definitely not the first time and surely it won't be the last.
I keep thinking about trying to game the questions on the dating site instead of ranking them honestly. Questions that I feel identify certain traits or mindsets. I find myself asking if I'm still being honest if I do that. Am I?
This user icon is the best I have (considering I don't have a bush which would be perfect considering the subject) if only the sign had captured "imminent crash" in the same charming style. Heck even a picture of a crash at the bottom of the hill if you didn't exercise caution would have made it even more appropriate.
I also wanted to say something about being..."out there" could be a valid means of description. On the dating site. Like I happily indulge silly or whimsical ideas, creative things, and let them go off where they may leading to things that often seem outlandish. It may seem childish or like I'm not grounded in reality but the funny thing is that I can seem too serious and grounded in reality. They two sides co-exist quite peacefully with each other but it strikes me as a bit odd because for someone who often is lost in thought these silly ideas I prefer to express out loud, whether that's the profile or things I'm more likely to just spit out randomly, as they strike me and I can become quite spirited when I'm in engaged with the idea and am following it along to wherever it will progress.
Which I feel like may come off as a bit strong and crazy instead of simply being colourful. That is something that I have almost complete kept from the messages I've been trading back and forth with this one person as of late. The one I mentioned earlier (Great, I've made another looping circle. That's two now.) because...well, mostly because I get one sentence responses like it's a text message which is...understandable as they have only messaged from a mobile device. I must have a keyboard. Keyboards for the win.
Complicated. So very complicated. So few realize how complicated I really am. For most I am the quiet guy.
So introverted while observing, considering, and thinking. Partly a closeted entertainer, willing to put on a show when the mood strikes, or the right idea comes along. The only thing that matters is if the audience is interested and/or entertained. It seems like an unusual (is it?) mix of intro and extroversions.
OH!
That's what it was about!
When I was young I made a decision to not rush to decisions about things. I knew I needed to hear the arguments for both sides and carefully consider them before deciding what I felt about an issue. I did not want to rush to a decision (whether emotionally or for another reason) to later realize that it was foolish or rash. I wanted to make an informed decision.
Whiiiiich explains why I did not like jury duty the first time.
All it did was leave me with so many questions! How was I to decide on a verdict if I didn't have all of the information to make an informed/educated/intelligent decision? Seriously, how was I suppose to do it? I had more questions I wanted to ask to clarify things so I could decide. Hearing testimony only does so much good but I'm getting distracted again when I was trying to go to bed.
I wish I could say I knew more but in an effort to pry myself away from the keyboard let me save that for another day. (Now that it's been an hour and fifty minutes since I started I should go. Really. I should. I have work to--day.)
Holy number of tags, Batman.
I might add [more] cuts to this tomorrow instead of the one giant one I'm going to do right now. [Edit 30-Jan-2014: Mission accomplished. Revised tags but the text from the original cut was best: This entry is like a tapdance across my mind. Or like a child chasing a ball into a street without looking both ways first on a windy day as the ball meanders all over everywhere. It's like my consciousness was streamed directly to my keyboard in word form. Who needs streaming video? It goes everywhere in this entry. Everywhere and back...again...once or twice.]
Yes. It was a capital letter event.
A stranger for the first time while at the house of an acquaintance. We had plans for dinner. Plans that originally were not meant to overlap but ended up that way.
Okay, whatever.
Over dinner this strange woman basically starts the conversation off on, what very much felt like an attack.
Right off.
Sitting across the table I was immediately unhappy. Something had been rubbing me not altogether the right way about her from the moment she came in. This was no longer a rub but a sharp jab or like digging finger nails in to my skin. It was not okay at all.
Religion.
It was about religion.
Immediately asking about when/where I go to church. I knew as soon as I answered honestly (like I was going to lie?) it was all over. I knew from the force, speed, and tone in the way she asked the question. I knew I was being attacked. The look in the eyes, the troops were already gathered and prepared for war. I also immediately made a judgement and decided I did not like this person based on how she went immediately and aggressively on the offensive.
"Oh, &#(@!" probably would've been the right mental response but I couldn't be bothered to focus on that. I had to figure out how to get out of this fast before it snowballed.
To no avail, I tried to be nice about it. After a few questions I politely indicated that I was not comfortable talking about religion.
Taking no for an answer wasn't in the deck of cards she had.
Dang it.
So...I suffered through it, more or less taking the smile and nod approach (maybe without as much smiling) until she had said everything she wanted to say.
It sucked. A lot.
If the other company had been different (like if it had been my family) I would have been much more likely to give the person a defensive piece of my mind. As in, "Hey, either you respect my boundaries of you go fly a kite. Eff off."
Well, that would be an awfully nice way to put it and I wouldn't swear at them. I just don't.
But I know that I could have become vicious about it if pressed. (Like she continued to do! Please, when I say no remember No MEANS NO! It does not mean yes or continue!)
[Edit 30-Jan-2014: Not respecting my no? I felt that was disrespectful to treat another person that way. If you cannot respect my boundaries than I don't want anything to do with you. In retrospect I should have said something about how if she wanted to continue pushing she should know the following:
- No means no. It does not mean keep pushing.
- Continuing to force the issue is disrespectful. How would you feel if you were in my shoes?
- If you still insist on pushing the matter keep in mind that your behavior means I will be less likely to be open to your argument, your point of view, and that the more you push the less likely I will seriously reconsider my point of view soon.
Or worst case I could have said, "Look, if you won't be respectful of my boundaries then this isn't a safe place for me now. Please excuse me, I hate to leave in the middle of dinner but I won't stay in a hostile environment."]
I remember being very vicious when I was young. Especially in therapy. Oh boy! I had a very negative view of the family sessions. I didn't see any good come of them and I made that view plainly known. I would rip someone to shreds if that was what it took and I had few if any qualms about doing it. When doing that I normally had a very dark look, you might call it a death glare due to its intensity. I stopped all that long ago. I don't remember why.
But I was thinking about it while she continued to press me on a topic I was neither comfortable discussing or that I felt I could evade. I was at the dinner table! Eating! Seriously! I felt it was incredibly rude. If I'd been in the living room I could have gotten up, paced or even found a way to leave the room. Heck, in a pinch I could have said, "Look, I'm really sorry. I have to go. [Person I was visiting] I'll get back to you [day] about [issue]. Take care!" and run away. Literally. I would have gone to my friend who had shown up first no doubt. Trying to evade without leaving completely. Sometimes people will get the hint that way.
I knew that the others there...were all of a different mind than I was. I was alone effectively behind enemy lines on this topic.
Which...seriously. I have issues with. Events like this only make me like the subject less and increase the chances that I will never want to have anything to do with organized religion in any sense ever. Plus the people that will discuss it calmly (This was not calmly, her voice, tone, speed, timbre, and eyes all said that very plainly. This was passionate. Blind passion like a charging bull that sees only red.) seem to either be few and far between or non-existent.
I feel like I could stereotype people who take their faith seriously and I don't like that I've seen enough examples of so many commonalities between people who feel that way or describe themselves that way. I don't like that I can stereotype them. I learned that was wrong when I was young. I never wanted to do that. I wanted to give everyone a chance.
I thought I remembered reading something about some of the correlations a study found between people who had faith and those who did not. One of the things that surfaces--and it's terrible that this is the one that comes to mind first--was that those who believe in god tend to not be...as smart, those who did not believe or had little faith in god. (Whether we are talking the capitalized God or any non-capitalized god(s). (Did I really just call this out? Was clarifying that I may have also meant it with a capital but didn't want to write it twice called for? (For readability: yes) Seriously.))
What an awful thing to remember.
Why do so many of them seem to be so blind-sighted by their faith that all other reason becomes meaningless?
The fall back is always: If you had faith you would understand.
Really? That is the best you have?
That's not a valid argument. You might as well tell me, "Because."
And if I feel five years old I'll retort with, "Because why?"
It's a retort I am all too familiar with. I've used it plenty.
If you remember, my favourite question when I was young was why.
This afternoon something crossed my mind concerning a decision I had made for myself when I was young (I dunno, maybe eight years old?) that I wanted to write about but of course I didn't get a chance to write it down and now I've gotten so distracted by the relentless attack that the other thing is lurking in the shadows of my mind.
My mind, which some times is...well, hyperactive might be a good way to describe it when it's working on a bunch of things at once. Not all at the same speed and of course there are times where it will get wind of something shiny and...well, off it goes to get distracted by that or a butterfly that is fluttering by but as that is happening other thoughts are still occurring alongside the distracted idea of whimsy.
WHIMSY.
How does it get the whim-zee sound? It's s and a y and not z and a double e. It's not even an s and a double e. What gives? No, don't answer that. I'm not really that worked up to get into the specifics of the English language and why certain letter combinations lead to words that do not sound like you would anticipate if you look at them and try to do things phonetically.
That was a butterfly.
P.S. Daily communication is hard when it feels like you are the only one working on it!
DANG!
It reminds me of how difficult trying to entertain the Lumberjack used to be when she was at school. If I was too quiet I'd get poked and that meant I'd better say something (anything!) to keep her from being bored. (Uh...?) I didn't think that was my job and if I was reading something/thinking about something/off in my own world(mind) I didn't see the need to always be making noise. So naturally being so quiet making noise all the time was really difficult for me. I remember how much effort I had to put in to that. It was tough!
Right now I've been communicating with someone that...I feel is putting the bare minimum amount of effort in. What's worse is when I say something or ask a question and get ignored. Um. Do not think I will forget that. You may like me but I'd rather be alone than be unhappy. This kind of communication can quickly lead to me being unhappy. No point in being in a relationship that you aren't enjoying or happy in. (Which might explain why the Lumberjack and I didn't talk for stretches at a time. I may have needed the time and space to basically reset so that when we [inevitably] re-connected I could be happy with things.)
Which reminds me of seeing things long-distance. It's just a faint hint of a shadow in the fog so far away that nobody else can tell the tree from the forest. I, on the other hand, will not only see the tree and be able to make out its shape but also will know what kind it is.
One of those things is I remember when we would fight. It didn't take very long for me to realize that we would reconnect. It seemed like she was always the one initiating contact again after these events. I'm certain I called that out at least once.
Or one time at the movie theater (oh, those were...well, not in that building, those were not the days) and I had gone downstairs to find one of the girls that worked there in civies at the bottom of the stairs. I said something, rather offhandedly as I recalled, asking what was wrong I think, because it was clear to me she was upset.
I guess nobody else noticed? Or acknowledged it? I wasn't the only one there that night. There were plenty of other managers there so...yeah. One of which she was dating and was the cause of the pain she was feeling. For me it was written plain as day on her face and in her body language. I find it difficult to believe that everyone else there was blind to it.
She was shocked. Very surprised I even noticed muchless that I had put together some of what could be the cause. (Yay for points for figuring part of it out without being told! But like the show Whose Line Is It Anyway, the points don't matter.)
This entry is quickly becoming like a paint by numbers picture. You start with one dot, then you connect to the next and suddenly you are leaping about the page, springing from point to point as you pounce upon the required lines to create some fine art and then you must paint and be sure to at least once forget to stay inside the lines.
Because lines are for people who like rules.
And yes, rules are meant to be broken.
Oh my gosh, that was such a bad example. Comparing being preached to in an environment where you are not allowed and are discouraged from asking questions to obeying a stop sign.
Yeeah, I'm going to go with: Absolutely not the same. Not even close.
As soon as the first question was out barely a bite into dinner (the despair that flashed across my mind as I immediately saw what was next and hoped it would be possible to cut it off at the pass (You could describe that next realization as an intuitive kind of, "Oh noes, it's come true and not it's only going to get progressively worse. I'd rather try and survive a crossing of the fire swap and take my chances with the R.O.U.S.es." except instead of that in word-form take it instead in more or a feeling that's...sort of a gut response realized in the flash of a portion of a second.)
Great, now I've gone full circle. I might try to zig-zag or circle away from this but I've been writing for an hour now and I want to go to bed. I would turn up the heat but...what's the point? It'll drop back down ten degrees (less if you love metric...well, kind of but not really since it all feels the same no matter what label you apply to the temperature (Oh my gosh, do I really need to be so nitpicky?!)) once I set the thermostat back to where it is now.
Plus flannel sheets and blankets are great.
The only thing missing is an electric one that I can put right above the sheet to warm the bed before I climb in instead of getting in and finding myself cold because there is no heater in the bedroom. (Awww.) I could use a fan to blow it through the door but I don't care enough since the second I fall asleep it won't matter anymore. Why waste the resources that I won't appreciate when I'm sleeping?
Truth be told I'm more likely to count how many times the heater turns on during the night and in the back of my mind (there are some parts that must never rest) I'd know that I was wasting fuel. Squandering it even. What a great word.
This entry has become the written form of my current stream of consciousness. Capturing as much as I can in a meaningful (That's debatable; I don't mean a way that carries personal meaning for anyone, myself included, so much as I mean in a way that could stand some chance of being understood. I can't show you a video of shapes or sounds you don't recognize to have any meaning (either arranged as words/speech or music/song. I can't describe things I perceive as being intuitive--which is probably most everything I consider common sense. Which was also on my mind earlier (concerning a profile I wanted to respond to) and...yeah.
It is way past my bedtime.
Which, like a rule without a good reason (those are the worst rules), I've gone right ahead and broken.
Definitely not the first time and surely it won't be the last.
I keep thinking about trying to game the questions on the dating site instead of ranking them honestly. Questions that I feel identify certain traits or mindsets. I find myself asking if I'm still being honest if I do that. Am I?
This user icon is the best I have (considering I don't have a bush which would be perfect considering the subject) if only the sign had captured "imminent crash" in the same charming style. Heck even a picture of a crash at the bottom of the hill if you didn't exercise caution would have made it even more appropriate.
I also wanted to say something about being..."out there" could be a valid means of description. On the dating site. Like I happily indulge silly or whimsical ideas, creative things, and let them go off where they may leading to things that often seem outlandish. It may seem childish or like I'm not grounded in reality but the funny thing is that I can seem too serious and grounded in reality. They two sides co-exist quite peacefully with each other but it strikes me as a bit odd because for someone who often is lost in thought these silly ideas I prefer to express out loud, whether that's the profile or things I'm more likely to just spit out randomly, as they strike me and I can become quite spirited when I'm in engaged with the idea and am following it along to wherever it will progress.
Which I feel like may come off as a bit strong and crazy instead of simply being colourful. That is something that I have almost complete kept from the messages I've been trading back and forth with this one person as of late. The one I mentioned earlier (Great, I've made another looping circle. That's two now.) because...well, mostly because I get one sentence responses like it's a text message which is...understandable as they have only messaged from a mobile device. I must have a keyboard. Keyboards for the win.
Complicated. So very complicated. So few realize how complicated I really am. For most I am the quiet guy.
So introverted while observing, considering, and thinking. Partly a closeted entertainer, willing to put on a show when the mood strikes, or the right idea comes along. The only thing that matters is if the audience is interested and/or entertained. It seems like an unusual (is it?) mix of intro and extroversions.
OH!
That's what it was about!
When I was young I made a decision to not rush to decisions about things. I knew I needed to hear the arguments for both sides and carefully consider them before deciding what I felt about an issue. I did not want to rush to a decision (whether emotionally or for another reason) to later realize that it was foolish or rash. I wanted to make an informed decision.
Whiiiiich explains why I did not like jury duty the first time.
All it did was leave me with so many questions! How was I to decide on a verdict if I didn't have all of the information to make an informed/educated/intelligent decision? Seriously, how was I suppose to do it? I had more questions I wanted to ask to clarify things so I could decide. Hearing testimony only does so much good but I'm getting distracted again when I was trying to go to bed.
I wish I could say I knew more but in an effort to pry myself away from the keyboard let me save that for another day. (Now that it's been an hour and fifty minutes since I started I should go. Really. I should. I have work to--day.)
Holy number of tags, Batman.
I might add [more] cuts to this tomorrow instead of the one giant one I'm going to do right now. [Edit 30-Jan-2014: Mission accomplished. Revised tags but the text from the original cut was best: This entry is like a tapdance across my mind. Or like a child chasing a ball into a street without looking both ways first on a windy day as the ball meanders all over everywhere. It's like my consciousness was streamed directly to my keyboard in word form. Who needs streaming video? It goes everywhere in this entry. Everywhere and back...again...once or twice.]