So a few days ago I posted this really great quote about how even little bits of movement matter, and make a difference.
And then I proceeded to act on the wisdom I’d just received in a way that showed that I had completely understood the concept of “small movements” if, by “small movements” you mean, “moving at the speed of a herd of zebras fleeing the pride of lions that is pursuing them across the plains of the Serengeti.”
But unfortunately, that is just how that week went.
Because later that week I went to get my hair cut, and somehow my stylist and I got to talking about how some people-and specifically, how some of her clients-just will not stop talking. And I said, “Yeah, some people are just really narcissistic and have no clue how they’re affecting the people around them.”
Then that led to a discussion about the exact definition of “narcissistic”, and I was happy to explain it to her. For w-a-a-a-y too long. I mean, I told her the entire story of Narcissus, for crying out loud, when all she’d asked for was a definition of the word.
And people: if that’s not a flagrant abuse of a liberal arts education, not to mention a PERFECT example of someone who doesn’t know when to shut up, then frankly, I don’t know what is.
But I like to think that maybe I redeemed myself at least a little bit at my pedicure, because I made a concerted effort to listen to the manicurist’s stories instead of just blathering on about myself. And it was worth it, because in addition to the intense surge of virtuous pride I felt at being A Good Listener, her stories were really funny.
Like the time she was stopped for speeding and then explained to the officer that her speed was not actually her fault, but that of gravity.
Or the time she was stopped for wearing her seat belt the wrong way (like all other short people, the top strap cuts right into our neck). And the police officer said she’d have to pay a fine. And she asked him, completely unfazed, how much the fine would be. And he was kind of taken aback and her laid-back attitude. And she explained that no matter what the fine ended up costing her, it would be cheaper that what the insurance company would have to pay out to her husband on her life insurance policy if she ended up strangled to death by her own seat belt. And the police officer really had nothing to say to that.
And, in a final burst of randomness, you may remember that a few months ago my parents made a trip to some family property in order to get it ready for summertime use.
Well they had to go back a little while ago to do some more work and, according to my mother, they did not have to break into the house this time, which really disappointed The Family Friend who came to pick them up at the airport. I guess he hadn’t had the opportunity to walk on the Possibly Committing A Felony Wild Side lately.
Here endeth The Random. You may now return to your regularly scheduled day.
I’m sure all that “hairdresser customer yakking karma” averages out to a sane quantity. After all, she must have a few male customers that, like me, barely offer a grunt when asked if the sideburns are the right length.
You can’t tell, but I’m Pausing to think about the failure of the “gravity plea.” Most speed zones seem to be at the bottom of a hill, so you’d think if they were really serious about wanting you to go slow, they’d move that speed zone to the top of the hill, or at least level the road out so it doesn’t drop in altitude. Sometimes I think that the folks who position speed zones also own oil fields — they purposely put speed zones in the spots that would make you waste the most gas. But the sad truth is that the schools that require speed zones are built on the cheapest available land, which just happens to be low-lying swampy areas that you find at the bottom of hills.
I wonder if there’s also a “blog commenter’s response karma”…. Oh well, it’s not like you have to sit there and read this entire comment aloud in its entirety.