So I was thinking the other day...I think, by now, we can all agree this is a bad idea...but I swear it was an accident...I received, yet another, of those "Let's see who will forward this," "What's your favorite," "What did you have for breakfast," ridiculous emails. Little aside...I NEVER forward them!!! It doesn't mean that I don't LOVE the friends that send the to me...it means...well...when I got to thinking...it means a few things.
It definitely means introspection is not my thing. Trust me...I'm as shocked as you are!
Maybe it means I don't feel like copying and typing all that stuff because...I just don't feel like it. It's entirely possible it's a migraine or an RA flare in my hands creating this particular case of the "I don't wannas," maybe I'm in the car or at the gym...or really, I just don't feel like it.
But then I realized...when I was doing that thinking thing...that sometimes, it's none of anyone's damn business!
Why do randoms, to whom the email will ultimately be forwarded, need to know what I had for breakfast? Why do they need to know what I'm reading? Why do they need to know...or all of Facebook in my status, for that matter...what color bra I'm wearing....and why do they care? I assure you, and this applies to even my very best friends, tho of this they are already aware, the ONLY reason I would give a damn about the color of ANYONE'S bra, is that they have visible bra straps...Ewwwww!!! Outside of my head, I can't imagine my likes and dislikes are THAT life-changing to anyone.
Worse are those that ask for favorites. That's what really caused all of this "thinking" silliness. I realized I simply don't have answers to those questions. They all ask:
What's your favorite color? Well, Pink...but I often like to answer Plaid or Argyle...you've got to mix things up...keep people guessing...
But that's an easy one.
What's your favorite food? Ummmm...I kind of don't know. Do I say chocolate...I do LOVE chocolate. Or french fries...but not all french fries because some are soggy or have blechy coatings or seasonings (Can we say Old Bay?!?). Is a sauce a food? I mean, do alfredo and bernaise stand alone...or must I choose specifically that which they make the most delish? What about bacon? Grams used to put more and more bacon on anything people didn't like because everyone loves bacon. This particular phenomenon gave birth to the transformation of the previously merely disliked sweet potato to the "God Damn Sweet Potato"...and on the subject of potatoes...yes, potatoes, I said french fries earlier and sweet potatoes now so I'm going there...my blog...you know the rules...double baked...love...mashed...adore...scalloped...well...how can it be that in high school I framed a magazine ad for the potato (because I HATE vegetables) that was a picture of a potato with green paint being poured on it that said something along the lines of "What must we do for you to consider us a vegetable, paint ourselves green" that I find scalloped potatoes...oh dear...I have no words. Perhaps, yet again, a good time to switch to a fairytale. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful Princess who sent to a sleepover in another Kingdom. I was friends with the Princess at whose home I was sleeping...but her mother, the evil Queen...well...she was the type who wouldn't let yet leave the table without cleaning your plate. The Princess and the evil Queen didn't see eye to eye on this particular issue for a number of reasons. The Princess is a VERY picky eater and doesn't enjoy anything shy of being catered to. The Princess had been taught well, by the Queen in her Kingdom, that a proper Princess ALWAYS leaves a bit on her plate. A Princess owes it to her hostess to make any dietary needs known...generally this task is preformed by minions, but the Queen must've given them the day off. Poor timing...really, REALLY, poor timing! A proper Princess doesn't criticize what she is served, but does push the food around on her plate a bit, so as to be gracious give the appearance of eating and not insult one's host. When the evil Queen asked the beautiful Princess if she liked scalloped potatoes PRIOR to cooking, the Princess firmly, tho politely, conveyed, in no uncertain terms, that scalloped potatoes...tho the Princess diplomatically kept to her self that this extends to any potatoes from a box...that scalloped potatoes were forbidden in her kingdom. The evil Queen decided to test the Princess' resolve. Ohhhhh, evil Queen, the Princess may have been a mere tot at the time, but she is the Princess, nonetheless. I should mention, no judgment...you know me, I don't judge... that the evil Queen is BAD cook. A poison apple would be step up! There was, before my time, "the Lasagna Incident," in which, and the details are hazy because pretty much everyone involved ended up in the hospital, that, as I understand it, involved jarred sauce, possibly ketchup, and Velveeta! Clearly the evil queen missed the memo, because as we sit down to dinner, the Princess' plate was piled high with scalloped potatoes made from a box. I ate the rest of what passed for food in that particular Kingdom, yet the potatoes continued to stare back at me. And the evil Queen decided, that the ideal way to teach the Princess a lesson (good luck with that), was to make her sit there until they were gone. After quite some time...enough so that what had once made a vain attempt at looking like a potato...resembled in both appearance and smell...a cold, congealed mess of sweetbreads than anything I wanted to ever see baked, fried, or mashed again! Still, the evil Queen thought surely her will was stronger than our heroine, our Princess. The evil Queen decided to compromise and force just 3 bites down the Princess' throat. It would appear that the evil Queen also missed the "No Means No" memo. At this, the Princess decided to give the evil Queen just EXACTLY what she wanted. Princess chocked down her first bite and while turning unpleasant shades of green, fortunately, our fair Princess looks fab in green, and her gorge began to rise. The evil Queen insisted on bite number 2. Princess warned her that bite 1 was not going well. The evil Queen, refused to listen. Princess took bite number 2 and gagged the entire time...it was a Royal struggle!!! Still, the evil Queen insisted on one last bite. When bite number 3 hit the gag reflex from bite number 2...things got VERY undignified!!! The henpecked King quickly swooped me up and took me straight to the bath to clean me up...he managed to hide is laughter from the evil queen until we were safely in the bathroom with the door shut. The evil Queen was STILL cleaning up after the Princess was all cleaned up and ready for bed. She had also called the King and Queen of the Princess' Kingdom...both of whom had been subjected to "The Lasagna Incident," and laughed all night and the following morning driving out to retrieve the Princess.
So far, we haven't established my favourite anything...ahhh...but tomorrow is another day...and we shall carry on, my friends!