Piranha Conversation Outtakes

I tend to see things in a rather satirical light. There are those among you who have been there when my edit button slipped...

I tend to not say all the things that I’m thinking. It’s better that way because half of my thoughts are along the lines of “your face” and “your mom.” (The truth is, actually, that most people don’t say all the things they’re thinking. Imagine, if you will, the President of the United States in the middle of his speech suddenly announcing to the press room how he desperately needs to pee. The funny thing is that everyone always says “I don’t say all the things I think,” as if it’s some great revelation or that they’re different from everyone else.) The problem is that I’m an external processor, and when I’m thinking something really powerful, it swims around inside of me like a piranha, eating up all the useful thoughts and dominating my tank of existence.

It’s funny what people will accidently say to a pregnant woman. Many of you know me as rather unforgiving with speech, and the fact is that until I have published this somewhere, it’s going to destroy my inner being. So here, arranged according to the amount of reaction I’ve had to suppress, are the things that people have accidently said, and the things that I haven’t said back.

7. "You just don't look pregnant to me."
This is usually said by people who see me on a day to day basis. It’s funny because, I feel pregnant. I remember once someone said this to me right after I pulled a round ligament as I was hobbling to class and clutching my side. Additionally, my clothes don’t fit, so every time someone says this to me (like the former co-worker I ran into yesterday) all I hear is, “Haven’t you always been that fat?"

6. "Are you sure it’s not twins?"
This one gets a blank stare. Between a three sonograms and two ultrasounds, I’m fairly certain there is only one bun in the oven. Thank you for your concern.

5. "Do you know who the father is?"
This is usually said by people who don’t know me very well, but it still makes me feel a little disappointed. I mean, I understand that being an unwed mother-to-be does not exactly spell out “pillar of virtue,” but most people have seen me walking around holding hands with this (charming and courteous) Asian guy, so it would follow that the (before mentioned charming and courteous) Asian guy would be the father… unless of course all Asians look alike to you, which may lead you to believe that I sleep around with a lot of Asians. If that’s the case, then I’d say you are the one with the problem.

4. "You know, so-and-so got pregnant in college, and…"
I think that this is an effort to make me feel like the speaker identifies with my situation. It’s a very nice gesture, but it really just makes them sound like a bad conversationalist. I really don’t care to hear how your friend/acquaintance/distant relative was left by her boyfriend/ostracized by her family/later arrested for drug use… unless of course you have some sage piece of wisdom to share in relation to this experience. No? Okay then. Stop talking.

3. "I'm not judging you."
Oh, yes you are. This statement is usually coupled with a very concerned and “understanding” look, and is often followed by…

2. "I just want you to know that Jesus loves you.”
I genuinely get annoyed at this one. I try not to, but here’s the thing: I grew up at a mission center. I attended Christian schools from kindergarten to my senior year, and I spent the majority of my summers visiting holiness camp meetings and going to a minimum of two church services a day. Now, I am not the first to pick up on things, but you’d think somewhere in my childhood I would have gathered that Jesus loves me. I actually had someone sit me down last month (literally led me to a bench and sat me down) and give me a formulaic five minute salvation sermon complete with a personal life story and an analogy—all because I told them I was pregnant. I guess the annoying thing is that each person says it like they’re the only person in the world who’s ever said it to me, or that people who know about Christ’s love don’t sin. Pfft.

And taking the place of number one (drum roll, please)…

1. "Does the father know?"
Okie dokie… “I think that you’re a great person and all, and I have no problem sharing this information with you, mostly because I’m not keeping it a secret, but you don’t seem to even know my boyfriend’s name. What makes you think I’d tell you before I told him?” Of course, that would be terrible and I’d never say that, but I think it, (usually) as I talk to two or more acquaintances without hushed tones in a public place. No, I just smile and tell them, “He knew before I did.” That opens up the opportunity for me to say all sorts of wonderful things about my (incredibly intuitive and level-headed) boyfriend, and the people leave feeling great about the (apparently very close) friendship we share because I’ve confided in them.


Now that I've sufficiently purged my mind of these thought consuming rampage-etts, perhaps I can put down Pratchett's Discworld series and dive into something a little more intellectual. Doubtful, but we'll give it a shot.

Random thoughts collected about frivolity

I posted this on my Facebook page last December, but I've been thinking a lot about the same topic, and decided I wanted to re-post it here

Friday, December 18th, 2009

I've been thinking a lot lately about the frivolity of life. Today I went into town with $52 dollars. I put gas in my car. $10. I got coffee. $3. I bought two books. $22. I got a bowl of soup at Panera. $5. These are rounded up of course because who uses change? (How much would I save if I saved my change?) When I got home, I counted my cash and asked myself, "Why do I only have $12 left in my purse?" It's all accounted for in numbers, but for some reason it doesn't make sense in my head.

I could have gone without the gas. I had half a tank. But the fact is that the gas will get used no matter what. And the prices will eventually go up, most likely. And it had gone down from yesterday. So I guess it's accounted for.

I didn't need coffee. I got it because I needed an excuse to walk into my old workplace and talk to the manager who blew me off for a month when I wanted holiday employment. For some reason I couldn't just go in and talk to her. "I was in the area... thought I'd get a cup of coffee." She did give me the old employee discount, though. So I guess it's accounted for.

I really didn't need the books. I'm right in the middle of reading Good Omens, and still have Stranger in a Strange Land and The Clocks yet to read. But it is my goal to read a total of five books while I'm home. And then I would have all five. So I would spend the money anyway. Besides, the gentleman who recommended Three Cups of Tea gave me free chocolate. So that's accounted for also.

I didn't really need the bowl of soup, either. But at 4:30, I was out of things to do. I know someone who works at Panera (or at least used to) so I figured I might bump into them. I didn't. But I was very hungry. and had to stay in town till at least 5 so I could pick up a prescription at Walgreen's. And I hadn't eaten anything all day, besides two cups of coffee for breakfast, a cookie, and another cup of coffee previously mentioned. And I might be hypoglycemic. So it could have been bad if I hadn't eaten. And it was broccoli cheese! So that is accounted for, too.

Funny what reason can do.

We spend our lives working for, scraping together, and spending money. We put ourselves in debt for education so that we can make more later. We do our best to live well on a low budget, and if we fail, society looks down us for either being cheap or in debt.

Funny what society can do.

At the end of our lives the size of our gravestone is decided by our wealth (or family's wealth). This seems twisted to me. Why are gravestones even necessary? A small ground stone should suffice. When I die, please make sure that my organs are harvested for transplants. Any part of my body that can help someone else should be taken. Tissues, blood, take it all! Not like I'll need it. Have whatever's left cremated. If I die from some strange and terrible disease, see if researchers want it. At least then if I'm being frivolous, It won't be my fault. If you really can't stand to have no remnant of me left to cling to, buy yourself a cuddly stuffed animal that plays "I'm Too Sexy" at inopportune moments. It should suffice.

Frugality is nearly impossible in the life I've created for myself. I mean, If I could get myself to eat rice and celery soup every day for the next year and a half, college would be easy! But I'm so unsatisfiable. I crave things like bagels, chocolate, shwarama and deli meat and I indulge. Toast, carrots, and chicken would be better for my health AND my wallet. Did you know that deli meat is packed with salt? I mean, I guess I knew that, but it didn't occur to me. Did it occur to you? Gr. Frivolity battles frugality at every turn and at the end of every day I find that somehow it has won. And when i get a little extra in my paycheck, I automatically think, "Oh, I can afford to buy this now instead of the cheaper option!"

I blame society because I'm an American and nothing is my fault.

Dealing with Mean People

I have been working on accepting the fact that sometimes people are mean. I am pretty sure it could actually be categorized as a fact of life. This is something that I have been trying to deal with since kindergarten when a girl in class stepped in my square foot garden of dandelions and buttercups. (Incidentally, I had asked her politely not to. I hit her, trying to defend my creation. She told the teacher and I got in trouble for not sharing.)

Anyway, I still have a hard time with this concept of mean people. I suppose everyone has a motivation of some sort, but I don't know what those motivations are so to me it just seems mean. When I was little, and someone did something mean to me, I would react in the same way any mature six year old would--cry and get my daddy. Lately that tactic hasn't been working, partially due to the fact that he is in Michigan and I am in Illinois, but also due to the fact that I am (dare I say it) no longer six years old.

I think that the excessive amount of hormones is not helping. These days my coping tactic has been to call someone, tell them what happened and fall into a pathetic universal crisis that includes "Why does the world have mean people," "Why is there no solution," and "Why don't we keep chocolate in the house???" Then I go find something that will make me happy. Today, this makes me happy.