I’m now writing this for a second time. Which is annoying, but anyway. If you know me, or are one of the five people who read this blog, I’m really only game for the occasional feminist rant. I would much rather be spending my time trying to convince you to watch certain TV shows I particularly like (seriously, The Vampire Diaries is way better than it has any right to be. Go check it out – watch a few eps – come back and thank me). But something happened today (well, yesterday at this point) that, over the course of the evening, morphed into something I realized I felt pretty strongly about.
My parents just got back from vacation, and it reminded me of the family vacations we took when I was a kid. I have some really fond memories of long road trips listening to Bryan Adams on a Walkman and hoping the hotel we were staying in had a pool. I also learned some very valuable lessons along the way. Of course, the most important one was “Always pack snacks” followed closely by “Try to wait until you’ve left your street before diving into the snacks.” The rest are below in no particular order.
Everyone is funny. Everyone has a sense of humor. It may not be a mainstream sense of humor, and maybe you can’t tell a joke to save your life, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have your moments of hilarity. In my opinion, nothing kills a joke faster than trying too hard, and nothing saves it faster than self deprecation. This especially helps in those moments when you start telling a story and realize half way into it’s one of those “had to be there stories.” I can’t tell you how many times I’ve done that. Being able to laugh at yourself is truly one of the keys to developing and maintaining a sense of humor. Looking back, I have had sooooo many missed opportunities to laugh at myself. Opportunities that my family never failed to take advantage of.
I have never claimed to be a hardcore feminist. I also don’t look at the world around me and think that the sexes are treated 100% equally. Does it bother me that sometimes management seems like a boys club or that occasionally it’s assumed that my tiny feminine fingers can’t construct a simple chair (true story)? Yes, yes it does. Do I sit back and accept that that’s the world I live in? No. What I do is try my best to prove people wrong by being a strong and independent woman.
I recently discovered that Comcast now offers “Discovery ID” in my cable package. I’ll be honest, I’ve stalked this channel for a while, but it was never available. Then one day, one glorious day, I was flipping through the channels and Discovery ID was live on my television. I now have access to true crime 24/7! This couldn’t possibly go wrong….or could it?
I don’t have what one would characterize as a LOT of friends. That’s not to say I’m not liked. I’m pretty sure most rational people who meet me are fairly ok with me. It’s once they get to know me….but that’s for another time. Most people appear to like people in general (or are at least polite enough to not go running in the opposite direction – although based on some of the true crime series I’m watching, there are people you should go running in the opposite direction of when you meet them. Again, that’s for another time). I’d wager that rarely does one meet someone and think “Ugh, you’re the worst!” I imagine it’s more likely that people meet people and and are fairly neutral on them (ok, I’ll admit some people can be annoying right off the bat, but not the worst people ever) until some watershed moment where they realize the other person is either friend or foe. And still, that watershed moment doesn’t always occur, and people remain merely acquaintances or that guy you met once but can’t ever remember his name.
Many of you (if not all of you) have heard these stories before. Heck, a lot of you lived this story. Put up with my phone calls filled with emotional breakdowns, and in some cases, lived with the emotional apocolypse that was my seven month stint at what appeared to be a well-meaning non profit.