*Sorry I’m Not Sorry…
1. that I buy only organic milk; try to be conscious and increasingly intentional about where and how my meat, seafood, and produce are sourced; am more aware of and excited about food trends than fashion trends; seek out menus with things like roasted bone marrow…and still eat kraft macaroni and cheese at least a few times a month.
2. When I spell the words “vacuum”, “zucchini”, or “graham” properly the first time, without much any hesitation, I get a little giddy inside. But if I’m actually writing them with a pen, rather than some typing machine that will throw a glaring red line under my idiocy and save me from myself, there’s about a 23-nanosecond window where I look up and around like, “Oh my god! Did you see that?!” before I remember that a) writing a word on a paper is not a particularly “seeable” activity and b) even if it were…really? GOLD STAR, I CAN HAZ SPELLS. Durf.
3. that I always have and always will love leopard print, and yes, actually consider it classy. It doesn’t HAVE to be painted on/lycra/pink.
4. that I’m almost always going to get suckered in by anything in miniature. Saltine crackers, I mean, yeah, sure? ZOMG MINIATURE SALTINES, THEY’RE LIKE THE SIZE OF A POSTAGE STAMP MINE MINE MINE! (full disclosure: I am not a crackers-in-soup person). I *knnooowww* I’ve already got about 382 bobby pins, but these are miniature bobby pins.
5. that I am so incredibly NOT COOL about all things musical and the thought of trying to be just kind of makes me slouch over in a full-body whine. I totally respect and am in awe of my friends with the hard-drive-dedicated-to-music or who always know who the next big thing is before anybody has even heard of them, but I’m totally cool waiting 18 months until they’ve been co-opted by Top 40. As for me and my car, we shall serve Diane Rhem.
6. that people over 25 who get incredibly drunk, as fast and as hard as possible, as a fun and happy activity, on a regular (um, because it’s Thursday? that’s why? *confused 45-degree head cock*) basis, just kind of make me sad. I can’t relate at all; the people who are already drinking to self-medicate, totally, or the people who get all “HEY! I Really Like Cheese? Do You Like Cheese Too? Let’s Be Friends!” in flirtatious social situations without a little, erm, social lubricant – um, I am one; but WHEEEEEEE IT’S FRIDDDDAAYYYYY BLAACKKKKOUUUTTT!!!! I just…meh? I honestly don’t really judge it/them, I just don’t even kind of understand it/them.
7. The term “social lubricant” always makes me snicker a little bit, even if only in my head.
8. that I basically never order entree salads at restaurants, because while I sincerely love the flavors, textures, etc of most of them, I get really anxious and stressed out trying to eat them. Either I have a hard time cutting them up; or they’re cut up fine, but I can’t “assemble” a bite very easily; or it’s a GREAT BIG SALAD! in an *ittybittybowl* and a full third of my greens would end up on the table if I weren’t super-cautious about my leaf-stabbing; or I can’t get my dressing all mixed up and so when I try to just eat it dipped-bite-by-dipped-bite I either drop my poorly-anchored bite in the dressing entirely (and may or may not catch myself before I whimper) or fling little drops on the table and look like “Gretel Meets A Salad”.
Holy crap, I’m stressed out just thinking about it. When I get all energetic and brave and get a side salad, by the time I actually eat a third and give up finish it, I feel like either sitting up tall and showing it off to the rest of my dining patrons (“Look! look at me! Everyone come see what a laid-back, salad-eating grownup I am!”), or slouching back in my seat and taking a nap.
9. that on a related note, if I’m at a restaurant that offers soup instead of salad without an upcharge, I feel the need to order soup even if I’d actually rather fight the leaf pile, as some karmic behavioral-econ move. As if the chef is back there going, “You know, I was just going to quit with this whole salad OR soup thing, but then someone ordered it tonight, so I’ll keep offering it.”
10. that I board-fold all of my folded tops, from basic knits to hoodies to yes, even Hanes Beefy Tees and pajama tops. The precision with which I do so is directly correlated to my current degree of anxiety. Some kids rock in a corner; I could cut your face with my tank tops. Given the algae in my gene pool, I’m not too concerned with this particular arguably-maladaptive coping mechanism.
What about you? What’s something YOU are SorryYou’reNotSorry about this week?