Random

Jaya J of Pickles n’ Tickles tagged me to list ten random things about myself.  I’m quite happy to do this but I’m going to cheat.  (That’s one random thing right there – I’m capable of cheating.)  I’ve done four of these tags in the past so I’m stealing from those lists.  (Yet another random thing – I steal.) 

There’s a reason for my filching from past lists – and it’s not laziness.  I think of random as being without purpose, objective or meaning.  To come up with ten more random things??  How random can one be and still claim to lead a meaningful existence?

(Digression – Wouldn’t it be interesting to tag someone to come up with ten

reasons as to the purpose of their existence?  Now, that would be a challenge.)

Anyway, here are the ten random things:

1. I’ve been known to *ahem* emit a burp (or two) at the dinner table.  Only amongst family.  Never as a guest in someone’s home or in a restaurant.  I know my manners but I believe burping is good for you.  So do my sons.  ;)

2. I carry loose change in my pockets for the homeless. 

3. I have a teensy-tiny birthmark on my left inner thigh.  I think it looks like a baby duck.  I like it.

4. I swear.  I find swearing to be extremely useful in blowing off steam.  (Only a select few are privy to my foul language.)

5. I wear my watch on my right wrist.  I am right handed.  In the past I was told numerous times I should wear my watch on my left wrist.  Short of losing my right arm, the watch will remain on my right wrist.  (So there.)

6. My ears are not pierced.  The thought of putting holes in my ears makes me cringe.

7. I don’t like eating crusts and never made my kids eat theirs.  Whenever I leave them on the plate (which is most of the time) I think of and miss my dog.

8. I am unable to wear make-up due to my sensitive skin.  What the world sees is the real me.

9. See first paragraph of this post.

10. Ditto # 9.

And now I must tag six other bloggers – which I’ve always found difficult to do.  How does one choose?  Well, this “one” doesn’t.  I’ll just open up the “Random Things” tag to anyone who’d like to have a go at it. 

Better yet, try creating a “Ten Reasons for the Purpose of My Existence” list.  ;)

Photo credit: google images

Playing It Safe

“If you love someone, tell him or her. Forget about the rules or the fear of looking ridiculous.  What is truly ridiculous is passing up on an opportunity to tell someone that your heart is invested in him or her.”

~ unknown

My initial reaction upon reading this was, “Hey, yeah, go for it, Beth.  What have you got to lose?” followed immediately by, “Uh-uh.  No way.  You have plenty to lose.”

Although my second thoughts are in part due to being wary, I’m going to credit maturity & common sense.  I think the older you get, the risks get riskier in that you have less time to recover from possible damage.  Life may throw you some curve balls but there are some you can dodge - where you possess some degree of control.

I’ve had my fair share of not-so-great moments this past while and I’m reluctant to invite the possibility of more into my life.  (And that possibility looms large in this particular scenario.)  More importantly, I’m happy now.  Could I be happier?  Possibly.  But why risk the happiness I now have? 

Call me a wimp or a coward – I’m okay with that.  I admit, I do care about rules.  Not all rules are made to be broken.  However, I’m not afraid of looking ridiculous (I’ve certainly done it often enough in other aspects of my life) and I doubt I would in this situation.  Well, maybe I am afraid…just a bit…  I no longer trust in matters of (my own) heart. 

So, I’m going with the nay-saying part of my brain - but who knows?  Perhaps other less complicated & more promising opportunities may come my way and I’ll be more inclined to take a risk.  For now, I’d rather play it safe than sorry – and keep on smiling…

Perspective

 

I had a wonderful time away.  Among other things, I discovered you’re never too old to build a snowman.  Although, if memory serves (and granted, it doesn’t always serve well) my snowmen used to be much bigger.

Is the “mini” in my Mini-Me snowman due to my having grown taller or lazier?

And while building snowmen is fun, snowball fights are not.  Too many childhood memories of ice chunks hidden in snowballs.  (Nasty Canadian boys.)  However, a mitten or glove of snow in the face or down the back of the neck is acceptable.  Not particularly pleasant, but acceptable.  And revenge is sweet.

Leap of Faith

Talking with one of my sons the other day, I managed to make a conversational leap from point A to point E with nary a pause in between.  This was such a huge leap, even I noticed.  He didn’t bat an eye.  Which I found rather disconcerting.  Are my kids resigned to my spouting apparent nonsense or do they actually follow me?  Either option is disturbing – so much so that I questioned him.

“Did you follow that?”

“Nope.”

“Did it bother you?”

“Not really.”

Hmm…  Option # 1 – he’s resigned.  Feeling defensive (and a little foolish) I carefully explained how I got from A to E.

He nodded thoughtfully.  “That’s good, Mom.  As long as you can to make the association between each point, you’re okay.”

Somewhat reassuring.  He (they?) think I’m okay.

Personally, I think my occasional conversational leaps are due to a brain that functions at warp speed – which is a sign of mental prowess.  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  If you can’t follow me?  Make your own leap – one of faith – and assume I know where I’m going.  I always get there – although sometimes I have to backtrack for the sake of others.

Speaking of which, weather permitting, I’m going away for a few days.  You may notice a lack of witty and intelligent comments on your blogs.  Or not.  I’ll catch up upon my return.

photo credit: google images (with some not-so-well-done changes by me…)

I Dare You...

As a child, if you dared me to do something, I‘d do it.  There didn’t even have to be a monetary reward involved.  The thrill and reward was taking on the dare – earning the respect of my peers.  Funny kind of respect, but, hey, we were kids…

I once:

 Chewed a blob of gum found on the sidewalk...

 if memory serves, it looked remarkably like this one

Ate a dead ant (not even chocolate covered) 

And a dead worm

 the one I ate was smaller – and I refused the dare to eat a live one

I also ate a bowl of porridge full of tiny insects.  This last culinary delight was not on a dare but was by mistake - my father’s mistake.  He’d prepared it from a bag of OLD oats and I would have eaten anything made by my father.

 couldn’t find an image with insects – these are raisins

Times have changed.  This week I threw out an entire apple and some grapes – all appeared to have been nibbled by mice.  No amount of washing could convince me to eat their leftovers.  Although, yes, I would if I were starving.

Where did my spirit of adventure go?  My willingness to take risks?

Or maybe I just need someone to dare me…???

photo credits: google images