Driving back from my parent's farm this weekend (which, to my astonishment, took only 4 hours and 20 minutes. Now THAT's a tailwind!) I mulled over deep thoughts fit for blog posting.
I'm mid-journal for the moment, having finished up my most recent during my trip to East Timor, and I've yet to find a new one. This means I'm dangerously close to posting items that the general public at large might find, at worst, embarassing, at a best, egotistical. Regardless, there are many many things I'm not prepared to share with the internets. (As my mom reminded me this weekend, my 82 year old uncle reads this...)
So, the best I can do is tell you what I'm NOT going to write about:
1) Fall. I'm of two minds about this slow slide into winter. On the one hand, the rise in baked goods is yummy and heartwarming - but on the other, it sucks that I have to bake just to keep my apt warm until they turn on the heat full time. I love my fall wardrobe and those fleeting crisp fall mornings, but I feel myself sliding into despair when I think about the bitter, long, upcoming winter months. Ugh.
2) The election. Me = patriotic. I emplore everyone to please, go vote. In fact, Vote Obama.
But dear Lord, can it stop now?
3) Turns out, I'm a "thinking" person. This has been used twice now in two weeks, from two seperate, completely unrelated people, to describe me. I'm not sure what this means. Mostly, I think it means I'm difficult. Hm. I think I'm going to stop thinking about being a thinker.
4) Hot dog, if people don't say the darndest things. My personal favorite from last weekend was being asked if I was pregnant.
I was going to write a whole post about the little indignities you have to put up with as you get older, especially in the form of unwanted questions that measure you against some strange standard (Why aren't you married/divorced/pregnant/pregnant again?) It's like older people have a sixth sense for finding your sorriest most bruised melty mess in your life, jabbing a sharp point stick into it, ripping it out of your gut, holding it up to the light and saying "Nope, she's lacking." And then they kick you in the groin.
But then I thought, you know what? I could care less what most people think. I don't have any control over the nasty rude things they say - they're going to say them whether I put up a stink and make myself miserably angry and irritated about it, or not.
So, I laughed with the little old lady when I told her it wasn't ME, but my sister who is indeed, 8 months pregnant. Turns out, she's a little nearsighted. :)
7) Rock and/or Roll
8) Zombie Pub Crawl. Which was terrific, by the way. I finally got the bloody handprint off my car.
9) My awesome job. I'm going to the Philippines in a week!
10) Why I Haven't Blogged in Like, 8 Years.
That is all I'm not going to talk about.
Aaaaaaand, I'm spent.