The bright side of a Moon
Would have been nice to run this morning.
If I could have done so and stay dry.
*sigh*
Oh, and sleep in. Heck, if I hadn’t slept in, I would have missed that enlightening dream where a friend was bullshitting me about some simple piece of electronics while someone I don’t know in real life but apparently knew in the dream was trying to sell a piece-of-shit Pontiac Fiero to some rube.
One of my guilty pleasures is reading advice columns. But not the mainstream ones, like “Dear Amy” or the faux-Abbys’ out there.
I know I’ve mentioned this before, although I’m too lazy to go back and search for links. But my favorite advice columnist is Cary Tennis over at Salon. Several times a week, I find myself in complete agreement with his take on the world and all of us strange creatures living in it. Even when he’s writing about a topic that I can’t ever imagine myself in, his approach to facing the problems people describe to him so mirrors what I would like to be able to think and do it’s uncanny.
And then, of course, oftentimes, sometimes, the topic is even closer to home.
Take, for example, this week’s letter (link may require viewing a “Day Pass” ad, but it’s so worth it) from someone accused of defensiveness by his ex-girlfriend. Here’s Cary, explaining, essentially, how best to apologize to someone so as not to put them down:
Say you bump me on the sidewalk and don’t say “Excuse me.” I feel annoyed at the bump and insulted at your failure to acknowledge it or apologize. So I say, “Hey, watch where you’re going!” And you say, “Hey, the sidewalk’s too narrow, and besides, I was reading this book.”
That’s not information I happen to be interested in at the moment. What I want is an apology, clear and simple, no explanations. I want my dignity restored. I want recognition as a person who deserves an apology. I want civility.
I might be in the wrong — perhaps I should have seen you blindly stumbling down the street and gotten out of the way. But to me, it’s about the way I feel, not about why you did it.
She calls you “defensive” because you’re defending yourself instead of giving her what she wants, which is validation, acceptance, courtesy. She’s hurt, it has something to do with you, and she wants something from you. It’s about her, not about you.
Perfect.
People want to be acknowledged. People want to be recognized. Even by strangers; many is the time I’ve angered some stranger on the street by responding to whatever request they make of me with my generic “I’m not interested.” You’d think I called them some horrible racial epithet as the realization sinks in that they were just asking the time but I’ve brushed them off without even considering what their question was. In my darker moods I rationalize it by saying that I owe a stranger nothing at all.
But I’m only hurting myself by approaching strangers this way. It just makes it that much more difficult for me to honestly approach others when I’m in the mood to. It’s walling something off inside myself that is better out in the open, even if it’s more vulnerable.
But shifting from strangers to those who know me… dammit, is it too much to ask for that kind of acceptance and acknowledgment? If I’ve been hurt, and the other knows it, what is so difficult about a simple, unadorned apology? I have friends who can do that, and friends who don’t, and I find myself less and less inclined to spend time around the friends who can’t or won’t see this truth. And the friends who do are often pleasantly surprised when I return the favor with my own respect. How sad that that kind of thing is so uncommon.
Respect me and my thoughts and opinions as I try to do yours. But don’t be surprised if I view your judgments about me as hostility and arrogance, and return it with my own.
It’s “Lots O’ Short Posts Day” at Lunar Obverse!
After giving it careful consideration, I’ve decided that Diet Vanilla Coke trumps Diet Coke with Lime.
Not that Diet Coke with Lime is bad, or otherwise undrinkable. Indeed, it’s the only other form of Coke that is at all palatable. It’s just that Diet Vanilla Coke is better.
It’s bad enough that, somehow, I ended up on Ticketmaster’s spam list, and can’t get unsubscribed.
But I gotta get emails reminding me not to miss Neil Diamond, too?
Ugh.
*ahem*
A little somethin’-somethin’ for the two or three people who read my blog and like music.
Just sayin’.
Me, I’m not so much into the live music. Unless it’s a show I’ve seen and want to remember forever (Radiohead, I’m talkin’ to you.)
Update 27 February 2022: Sadly, Bootleg Browser’s link has rotted.
I’ve had cats in the past, and most of them have responded better to training than Smacky does. I’ve trained cats to come when I call (every time I called, but never for anyone else in the household, much to their chagrin), to fetch, to sit on my shoulders when I’m walking…
OK, Smacky does do that last one. He’ll jump up on my shoulders when I ask him to and he’s not busy attackin something else. It’s just that, most of the time, he’s attacking something else.
He likes to jump up on the kitchen counter and dragging my dishrag all over the house. I’ll come out of the bedroom in the morning, stumbling around in the dark, half-awake, and step on the damp dishrag. First couple of times it happened I thought I was stepping in some biological waste, but now I just moan “Smacky…” drawing out the final vowell sound in frustration.
At which point, Smacky, who was rolling around on his side and back, stretched out and mewling and hoping for attention since I’ve been mean-spirited-ly ignoring him all night by sleeping, would then take my moaning to be the signal to pounce. On me.
If I was Smacky, I think I would understand a human shouting and yelling and dancing around trying to a) avoid stepping on me, b) keeping my feet out of the way of my sharp claws and teeth, and c) scrambling around looking for the water bottle to mean “Hey, the human doesn’t want me to do this anymore. I should stop.” But, apparently from Smacky’s perspective, a, b, and c add up to: playtime.
I’ve recently begun bribing him with vile-smelling (to me) chicken and liver flavored treats if he would stop biting and scratching me. Unfortunately, I think he has interpreted this to mean, “If I bite and scratch him he will give me treats” so it’s effective in an ineffective way, just reinforcing the behavior I don’t want him to have. Argh.
Smacky is a stubborn learner. Or, actually, he’s an awesome learner but not at learning the things I want him to. Technically I’m smarter than he is so I should be able to train him. But in all actuality, he’s training me.
When giving a gift to someone, you can give them something that you’d like them to have, or you can give them something that they’ve always wanted but would never buy for themselves.
Which gift is more thoughtful?
Short “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” review: I hope it’s not damning it with faint praise to say that it could have been worse.
Slightly longer review: Too many of the punchlines to jokes have been cut from the movie. For example, they have the setup of Zaphod stealing Trillian away from Arthur with the line, “Hi. Is this guy boring you? Why don’t you come with me? I’m from another planet. Want to see my spaceship?”
…but then, later, when they have Trillian and Arthur talking about it, they don’t show Trillian saying, “…but you have to admit, he did have a spaceship.” Argh.
Similar things happened a bit too often, so the movie felt somewhat unsatisfying to me. But overall, I did laugh out loud many times, and it’s delightful to see a big-budget version of Douglas Adams’ vision and most of his story on the big screen.
The lyrics to track 11 on The Offspring’s “Conspiracy of One”:
So here we go
Having the same old fight again
There she goes
Same old game that never ends If I could say
The right words
I know I could make you stay
If I could say
The right words
Things would work out all rightAnd if you go
I won’t believe
That it’s foreverAnd you can go
But I’ll never leave
Cause it’s not overReplay last night
Talking it out don’t make it right
I know she’s tried, but my whole world
Is her and all we’ve got nowAnd if you go
I won’t believe
That it’s foreverI won’t let go
Even if she say that it’s over
I know it’ll be
Different this time
If you’d just stayAnd when we wrote this story
How did it end?
It was you and me for all our lives
Come on, don’t say it
We’ll try again
And if I’d just hold you
We could lastBut she stands softly
Tears down her face
Hitting me, oh god
This is the end
I’d wait here for you
But there’s nothing more now I can do
How did you know
How did you know
How did you know
Finally
…take on a whole new meaning when you find that the title is “Denial, Revisited”.
