It's true. I love strawberry Special K cereal and home-brewed Dunkin' Donuts coffee and reading books cover to cover. I over-schedule myself only to embrace procrastination with a zeal I otherwise reserve for chai latte or Chipotle burritos. I can be trusted with secrets, but when bored, I am prone to purposefully making bad decisions just to see what will happen... What? Oh yeah, I've made a ton of bad decisions out of ignorance and poor judgment, too. No one gets THAT bored.
Other simple truths:
1) I love my job. One might say it has few opportunities for advancement, and it's certainly not going to make me rich. But journalists get to see the muddled mass of humanity with the bird's eye view few others have. Under certain circumstances I might deny it, but I love the rush of breaking news, negotiating for access, balancing conflicting ideas, struggling with words at break-neck speeds, and really, just watching people. I'm not sure if I've stared pure evil in the face, but I've seen a ton of selfishness, greed, addiction, pain, love, generosity and boring ole life.
Sometimes I think MY life is passing me by while I'm busy writing about other people's lives -- but after doing a little living of my own, I've concluded that there are worse ways to pass the time than by banging out an article or two.
2) I'd rather be smart than pretty.That might be why I am. Or maybe it was a matter of chasing what was possible. At any rate, unless you're really good at manipulating people, you're better off complimenting my writing or asking my opinion about something. If you tell me you think I'm pretty, I'm likely to think you're 1) drunk; 2) stupid, or 3) don't get out enough to realize how many truly gorgeous women populate the Midwest.
3) For writers, typos are like toilet paper trailing from the bottom of a shoe. If you love someone and somehow she doesn't realize she picked up a little extra paper in the bathroom, OF COURSE YOU TELL HER. If, however, you are that snarky girl who keeps hitting on the guy she likes, you're better off letting someone else point out TP - er, typo. It's not the biggest deal, but she's likely to add it as a mark against you.
4) I sometimes pretend I have a bad cell phone connection just so I can hang up on someone.
5) I have never done that to Maria or my mother. They both actually hang out in places with poor reception.
6) I ache for things that never really quite were. I used to think regrets were wasted sentiments, because we are more often shaped by our struggles than our successes. And then I realized I had no real idea what regret was before I finally experience something regretful. Now, sometimes between sleep and awake, I long for the times when my fiance (now ex-husband) kissed me on the nose and love seemed deep and perfect. Or the time when someone told me I was making a difference in that little town. Or the time I thought an afternoon's walk through a bad public housing project would provide enough truth for a story.
It was, and it wasn't. It did, and it didn't. I'm not cynical enough to deny all that was, and I'm no longer naive enough to not recognize all that wasn't. But don't we all want to believe in Santa Claus, sometimes?
7) I believe I need to accept people for their faults, forgive them, and limit how much I allow their faults to hurt me. I still have no idea how to actually do this.
8) I really, REALLY want to wear sandals and flip-flops to work every day. I would, only I fear people already don't find me professional, so I only wear sandals two days a week. Or so.
Other simple truths:
1) I love my job. One might say it has few opportunities for advancement, and it's certainly not going to make me rich. But journalists get to see the muddled mass of humanity with the bird's eye view few others have. Under certain circumstances I might deny it, but I love the rush of breaking news, negotiating for access, balancing conflicting ideas, struggling with words at break-neck speeds, and really, just watching people. I'm not sure if I've stared pure evil in the face, but I've seen a ton of selfishness, greed, addiction, pain, love, generosity and boring ole life.
Sometimes I think MY life is passing me by while I'm busy writing about other people's lives -- but after doing a little living of my own, I've concluded that there are worse ways to pass the time than by banging out an article or two.
2) I'd rather be smart than pretty.That might be why I am. Or maybe it was a matter of chasing what was possible. At any rate, unless you're really good at manipulating people, you're better off complimenting my writing or asking my opinion about something. If you tell me you think I'm pretty, I'm likely to think you're 1) drunk; 2) stupid, or 3) don't get out enough to realize how many truly gorgeous women populate the Midwest.
3) For writers, typos are like toilet paper trailing from the bottom of a shoe. If you love someone and somehow she doesn't realize she picked up a little extra paper in the bathroom, OF COURSE YOU TELL HER. If, however, you are that snarky girl who keeps hitting on the guy she likes, you're better off letting someone else point out TP - er, typo. It's not the biggest deal, but she's likely to add it as a mark against you.
4) I sometimes pretend I have a bad cell phone connection just so I can hang up on someone.
5) I have never done that to Maria or my mother. They both actually hang out in places with poor reception.
6) I ache for things that never really quite were. I used to think regrets were wasted sentiments, because we are more often shaped by our struggles than our successes. And then I realized I had no real idea what regret was before I finally experience something regretful. Now, sometimes between sleep and awake, I long for the times when my fiance (now ex-husband) kissed me on the nose and love seemed deep and perfect. Or the time when someone told me I was making a difference in that little town. Or the time I thought an afternoon's walk through a bad public housing project would provide enough truth for a story.
It was, and it wasn't. It did, and it didn't. I'm not cynical enough to deny all that was, and I'm no longer naive enough to not recognize all that wasn't. But don't we all want to believe in Santa Claus, sometimes?
7) I believe I need to accept people for their faults, forgive them, and limit how much I allow their faults to hurt me. I still have no idea how to actually do this.
8) I really, REALLY want to wear sandals and flip-flops to work every day. I would, only I fear people already don't find me professional, so I only wear sandals two days a week. Or so.
Posts
Maria has never, in the history of time, had good reception. It's a wonder any of us have ever been able to communicate with her.
That said, interesting post, dude.
You write how I feel, thank you for putting it into words. Being simple is just the way I live, complex people are just too difficult to understand for me. Thanks.