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Off my Chest
When the decision to get drunk has been made and the only decision left is what to drink and your options are 1 bottle red wine, 1 bottle white whine, 1 bottle of cheap (unopened) champagne left over from New Years Eve, and 2 beers... The champagne is NOT the correct choice. It's just not. ************************************ I'm phone shy. There. Happy now? I'll admit it. I have a wacky phone phobia that inhibits my ability to pick it up and call people. She has one too - so I know I'm not completely nuts. I can count on one hand the number of people I am 100% comfortable calling. I can pick up the phone and dial these people's numbers without giving it a second thought. I don't care if these people are happy to hear from me or if their voices drop 6 octaves in disappointment at the sound of my voice. I don't care cuz we've gotten past all that shit already. On my other hand are the people I can call with a minimal amount of self pep talking. These phone calls require only a deep breath and a muttered "stop being such a nutter, jackass..." and then a quick tappety tap of the phone keys and the initial whirlety-whirl of my nervous conversation that will always...always become significantly more relaxed in the first 5 minutes of the conversation. I'm not socially retarded - I am, in fact, quite comfortable in most social situations. It's the phone. The damn phone. It freaks me the fuck out - and I have my theories as to why, and I know they're all quite silly, but it doesn't matter. This shit is ingrained in my head. So then - there's everybody else who I never call. I probably should call you. But I'm not comfortable doing so. Maybe I think you don't like me. Maybe I'm afraid I'll be interrupting a torrid session of crazy hot sex. Who knows what's going on in my head that makes me such a serious whack-job when it comes to dialing a telephone. It's not even a personal thing - I hate calling people for my job too. I will go out of my way to not do it. E-mail is my best friend ever and if the e-mail gets me nowhere the fax machine is my second resort. I will only make an actual phone call if that is my only option. I guess my point is that - if you're reading this? And I haven't known you since I seriously loved New Kids on the Block without any trace of irony? And I haven't called you - maybe even ever? I probably still think you're the bee's knees. Seriously. And you shouldn't be mad at me because it's not at all my fault that I have this incredibly random phobia. And if you stick around long enough? I'll get comfortable with the calling. Promise! Okay. I needed to get that out there. It's been eating away at me. ************************************** I know I am now going to alienate pretty much my entire readership (yeah - sadly, all 4 of you) but I also have to get this off my chest. I think that Michael Moore is a jackass. I know. I know. Let the flogging begin. Except - shut up. I haven't seen Bowling for Columbine - but I can assure you that I will. I did see Roger & Me and I thought it was very interesting. I expect "Bowling for Columbine" to be just as interesting. I think the problem is that I just don't trust anyone who sees the world in such clear shades of black and white. Passion and scandal can be incredibly blinding and Michael Moore is both incredibly passionate and incredibly scandalous. I'm not buying it. His little stunt at the Oscar's last night (which I didn't see, but have read the news reports on) appalls me. I am of the belief that anti-war demonstrations going on now, while our soldiers are already fighting, is incredibly disrespectful. I know how Michael Moore feels about the war. I read his letter to President Bush. I want to know what good he thinks he's doing by using his passion in such a negative way. You hate the war dude. We get it. I hate the fucking war too. I hate fucking Iraq and the way they have bred such hatred. I hate the way they fight dirty - killing our POW's and then broadcasting it across their country. I fucking hate that the world is in the shape it's in right now. I. fucking. hate. it. But here's the deal. This is the way it is. It just IS this way. And I can run around calling Dubya a stupid boobyhead and hold signs decorated in bright red and purple announcing that I'd like him to stop killing "our" children and waste (yes, waste) all my energy fighting a force that can not be stopped. Or. ***OR***. I can put my energy towards something useful. How destructive to a soldier's morale does the anti-war movement have to be? Every soldier I have talked to believes in what he is doing. To put it in the words of my friend J - stationed in Korea:
Our soldiers are not pawns. They're over there - right now - doing the best they can. Maybe they appreciate the fact that the protester's are trying to "protect" them by stopping the war, but my guess is that they'd appreciate it even more if the protests turned into support rallies and the ginormous red and purple signs turned into care packages. In summary: shut the fuck up Michael Moore - and everyone else who has felt it necessary to burn a flag or plug up a busy street. It's desrespectful and it's a waste of energy. ************************************** Of course, on the flip side - like my friend Sarah said Saturday night - we are so incredibly blessed to live in a country that allows such vehement and vocal disagreement with our government. Truly blessed indeed. *************************************** I'm very angry over this war (obviously). I had a temper tantrum while watching the news last night. I'm still recovering. That is all. *************************************** Still Reading: Strangers by Dean Koontz Recently Saw: Moonlight Mile last night and I super loved it. I wonder why it didn't do as well in the theaters - it's a pretty good chick flick and the characters are all quite endearing. I don't know. Weird. I also saw Tuck Everlasting this weekend. Meh. |
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