It's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality.
Group dynamics facinate me. The "mob mentality" that grips each and every single person when put in social situations is astounding. A person can be completely decent, thoughtful, and rational one-on-one, yet when placed in a group situation become the epitome of everything wrong with the world.
We see this at parties where some people become more outgoing, louder, or perhaps more belligerant, picking fights with people in moving cars when that is not something they normally would have done. We see it when guys get together and the guy who has a distaste for alcohol suddenly begins to brag about every alcoholic encounter he's had, comparing the effects of whiskey to vodka. We see it with girls who travel in packs, and the one who commonly gets mistaken for a boy gushes about her love for "passion pink" nail polish.
Perhaps we are all ruled by stereotypes, and the fact that Linda and her friends talked about whether they or their sisters would get married first is just them conforming on a subconscious level to how girls are supposed to act. Or perhaps stereotypes truly have ground in reality, and when the group of 15 year old boys moon us unsuspecting DQ employees, it's because that is really how 15 year old boys act.
On a different note, I am again reminded about how much petty worries suck, espeically when they are out of my control. I'm just a bit concerned that if I don't get these worries straightened out, it will eventually result in an argument that shouldn't have to happen.
I haven't been this happy in a really long time, but I also haven't been this stressed out, either. I can't have everything, I suppose.
This will be the first and last time I ever say anything meaningful to you via the internet.
Why? Because I worry about the fact that we haven't really had a "serious" conversation. Maybe one or two, which are good starts. I don't want us to only be able to communicate (ah, girl-words) online. I know that sort of thing is hard for you, it's hard for me too, and I hope I'm not remiss in thinking I'm one of those people who you're afraid to open up to because you actually care about what they think.
That said: You are a wonderful person and you make me very, very happy. I know you think you're dull, and even though I don't think so, that's fine. I'll make you interesting while you keep me sane. We've agreed upon how we're opposites, how you're everything that I am not: quiet, creative, reasonable, healthy, diverse. I just wish we could talk. We smile at each other a lot, and we even ask "...what?" but neither of us ever respond. Maybe it's because in the moment I can't find the words to articulate how happy I am, how I feel like I don't deserve you and how goddamn lucky I am to have you sitting there, smiling back at me.
So now that you know, maybe next time you ask "what?" I'll actually tell you what I'm thinking.
Cathi's Thoughts of the Week Not Involving Personal Dilemmas
Is anyone else tired of hearing arguments from foreign criminals and closed-minded hicks about immigration reform? I don't know what the laws are, what the process is, or what life is like in other countries. I just wish that our immigration policy would let more people in more easily so that we wouldn't have this problem.
I am also tired of celebrities. I'm sad that, as I sit here watching my first episode of Dawson's Creek ever, as I see Katie Holmes running across a campus all I can think of is "how can she love a loony like Tom Cruise?" I want them to stay out of my informational magazines and off my evening news. I think it would be refreshing if the world simply let them do their jobs like normal people.
Rain makes me sad on the level that I can't go outside and be active, but makes me rather happy on the level that Dairy Queen will be slow and easy. Warm weather inspires visions of tank tops and flip flops, swim suits and tans, and the ever growing "oh my God look at my body" anxiety. My goals of preserving cash and my girlish figure by ceasing my almost daily fast-food intake has been successful thus far. We'll see.
I don't understand guys, and I probably never will. I make no secret of that. It's a little frustrating sometimes having to play guessing-games with things I should say/do/think in regard to pretty much any man in my life. I also don't understand when boys become guys and guys become men. I hear news reports about "man arrested for being despicable human being" and said "man" is 19 or 20 years old.
Little kids are the cutest and I want to kidnap them all. At least the cute ones. I'll give them away once they're 10 years old because then they become little punks.
It's a little crazy and refreshing how brushes with death, even when they are not your own, tend to put things in perspective and how sometimes, although rarely, they reaffirm that you've made good choices.
I'm just glad he came out alive and (mostly) unscathed.
I sometimes wish things were more simple, that everything lay in terms of black and white so that we never had to be indecisive about anything. I also wish that feelings wern't so painful and that brains were a little less logical. I wish that people, myself included, could always say what they were thinking and feeling without fear of repercussion so that things could actually get done in this world.
A certain friend's actions and my consequent reaction completely shattered whatever illusion I had myself under, so I'm back to square one, flailing, falling, wishing there was an easy way to erase things from my mind, Eternal Sunshine style. Perhaps a few brick wall head-butts will do the trick. It might make me feel better, anyway.
Springtime brings allergies and the plague, lovers and reckless driving, good times with good friends and lots of stressful school work. All hail the MayFlowers.