My Snood-playing skills at this time suck like a Hoover vacuum.
The other day someone suggested that I would consider something better if fewer people knew about it, particularly, fewer normal/common people. What! A joke, but still. I had even considered suggesting myself that my association with him keeps me in touch with "the proles," and his comment made me want to protest, "Don't you see? I want to relate to everyone, and for them to relate to me. This is an integral part of how I function; surely you see this. For concrete examples... Sure I like to cook and eat different nationalities of food because they're interesting and tasty, but there are other reasons too (ok, I associate culture with food too strongly, but that's old news). And while The Third Life of Grange Copeland (Alice Walker) and Working (Studs Terkel) are quality enough to read just because they're great (I highly recommend both), one of my main reasons for choosing these particular books was to try and expand my understanding of where other people are coming from. Partly, it's that people are just cool and interesting (even kest and silvergrrl know that yuppie spawn can turn out all right ;) ). More, I want to relate to people (and have vice versa) as an end in itself. Intertwined with that, this has to do with wanting to spend much of my adult life in "public service" (i.e. making the world more the way I think it should be, but that includes a lot of making it the way other people think it should be); and how to serve people if you don't get how they think(/feel/etc.)? Also, or maybe it's the same thing, how to figure out what I think without being exposed to the range of possibilities and their rationales?
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In other news, I've been trying lately not to mention Tim in every single conversation I have with anyone. I did succeed in the conversation with my mother about what was for dinner. This phenomenon is not entirely my fault, honest.
And now I've failed even here. See, he's coming to visit me Wednesday, so anytime someone asks about my schedule for the next week... yeah. I suppose it is my fault that he's coming, but... oh shaddup.
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My cat is sitting on my arm, making typing difficult. Maybe I should go now.
~
In other news, I've been trying lately not to mention Tim in every single conversation I have with anyone. I did succeed in the conversation with my mother about what was for dinner. This phenomenon is not entirely my fault, honest.
And now I've failed even here. See, he's coming to visit me Wednesday, so anytime someone asks about my schedule for the next week... yeah. I suppose it is my fault that he's coming, but... oh shaddup.
~
My cat is sitting on my arm, making typing difficult. Maybe I should go now.