Odd and Ends

I present, for your entertainment, the shit my wonderful boyfriend has to put up with.

This is why you should feel sorry for my boyfriend.  I'm weird AND I post screen shots of my conversation madness.

This is why you should feel sorry for my boyfriend. I’m weird AND I post screen shots of our conversations.

 

So, I don’t have enough coherent thoughts to make a cohesive blog, so I’m going to give you some odds and ends of my life lately.

First, because of a conversation I had with myself on the way home from the Super Wal-Mart, I just Googled “Do people eat giraffes?” I suspected they did, but I just wanted to be sure. Giraffes might be poison meat. Why was I thinking about eating giraffes you might ask. No? You weren’t asking yourself that? I’mma tell you anyway. I was thinking about how the Rothschild giraffe being named after the white dood who “discovered” it. I was laughing about that in my head because I’m pretty sure people were eating them well before Lord Rothschild walked up on them. (Apparently, he was a pretty big deal in the zoological world, but my point still stands.)

Today I had the house to myself so I turned off the television. Turning off the television is about my favorite thing to do with a television. I sat in my quiet living room and had a think. My favorite think to do in a quiet living room is think thoughts. I began wondering if we are losing that ability as a species. Sometimes I love to sit and think. I love electronics. My cellphone and Kindle are extensions of my soul, and I might be willing to give up an extraneous organ or two for my computer, but sometimes I love sitting with out anything to keep my attention busy. I was having a grand ole think about how the modern era is destroying our attention spans and our ability to interact with the world. Then I realized I sounded like a prick to even myself and moved on.

I have another weird internal debate. I know some women who flip out when men open doors for them or pay for dinner. They feel like it is degrading them. I don’t see it. I’ll be the first person to admit, for a staunch feminist (Tina’s descriptor, not mine), I’m oddly traditional. When anyone holds open the door for me, I see it as a kindness, not as a sign they think I’m too weak to do it myself. I hold open the door for all manner of folks out of respect and/or kindness. The Viking and I have a game I love. He unlocks and opens my car door and I get in and rush to unlock his door for him before he gets to it. It melts me that he opens the car door for me sometimes, and I love trying to show him the little bit of consideration of unlocking his door. I think that is part of what helps happiness in relationships, caring enough to do the small things for the other person.

I got to thinking today that I might be missing something in the door thing, though. I really don’t think so, but if I am, please tell me.

Anyway, taters precious…

 

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