Hello Fellow Travelers!
First, a couple of corrections to yesterdays' blog; I forgot a small word (the) it has since been added. The film I referenced was from South Africa, not Australia. It makes a little more sense that it was a thinly veiled swipe at Apartheid. Actually, I'm not really sure there is anything veiled about it. District 9 is pretty in-your-face about the filmmakers' viewpoint on Apartheid, I mean come on, Roach People living in a ghetto? Who were they talking about? Anyway, it was brought to my attention and I have corrected it, the emotion I was trying to evoke was loneliness which I believe cuts across all peoples. And all species.
Enough about racists and Roach People. Today I want to talk about rampant, unrelenting clumsiness. No one warned me about this, but it starts out bad and gets worse. I would categorize my current clumsiness somewhere around a 3, Hurricane Katrina being a 5. I just don't knock things down I drag things across great distances. If there is any liquid, it doesn't merely spill, it looks as though it's been flung and then stepped in. I mean really, although nobody ever accused me of being Princess Grace, I didn't destroy a tablesetting with such ferocity and uncanny accuracy. A talented toddler couldn't approach my level of destruction! Sometimes even I have to laugh at myself so incredulous I am at the havoc I've wreaked!
What do I do? I'll tell you what I do, the thing any self-respecting, red-blooded, American does; avoid the entire problem whenever possible! Tell myself that it's just one more thing, just one more log (on the ever burning bonfire of stress)I try to understand, as all foodies do, that the world is full of food and I can't eat all of it. Put in it's simplest terms: If it looks too daunting, I don't bother. Eating. Or drinking.
Now that eating and drinking are projects that have to be mastered, I am more particular than ever about what I consume. That makes sense to me for now. Oh, I have lots of straws too.
First, a couple of corrections to yesterdays' blog; I forgot a small word (the) it has since been added. The film I referenced was from South Africa, not Australia. It makes a little more sense that it was a thinly veiled swipe at Apartheid. Actually, I'm not really sure there is anything veiled about it. District 9 is pretty in-your-face about the filmmakers' viewpoint on Apartheid, I mean come on, Roach People living in a ghetto? Who were they talking about? Anyway, it was brought to my attention and I have corrected it, the emotion I was trying to evoke was loneliness which I believe cuts across all peoples. And all species.
Enough about racists and Roach People. Today I want to talk about rampant, unrelenting clumsiness. No one warned me about this, but it starts out bad and gets worse. I would categorize my current clumsiness somewhere around a 3, Hurricane Katrina being a 5. I just don't knock things down I drag things across great distances. If there is any liquid, it doesn't merely spill, it looks as though it's been flung and then stepped in. I mean really, although nobody ever accused me of being Princess Grace, I didn't destroy a tablesetting with such ferocity and uncanny accuracy. A talented toddler couldn't approach my level of destruction! Sometimes even I have to laugh at myself so incredulous I am at the havoc I've wreaked!
What do I do? I'll tell you what I do, the thing any self-respecting, red-blooded, American does; avoid the entire problem whenever possible! Tell myself that it's just one more thing, just one more log (on the ever burning bonfire of stress)I try to understand, as all foodies do, that the world is full of food and I can't eat all of it. Put in it's simplest terms: If it looks too daunting, I don't bother. Eating. Or drinking.
Now that eating and drinking are projects that have to be mastered, I am more particular than ever about what I consume. That makes sense to me for now. Oh, I have lots of straws too.
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