Why She Thinks?

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She Thinks started when Cindy decided that she and her daughter, Ally, should write together, and Ally couldn’t come up with any good reasons to say no. We wanted to see how our perspectives differed as a younger/older woman, mother/daughter, less/more experienced persons, brunette/blonde. Each week, we pick a topic sent to us from our readers that makes us think. We then go on our own and spill our respective guts/brains/hearts out on the page, and then post our thoughts here. To keep things interesting, we don't read each other's posts until we publish them. This means that sometimes our opinions and stories match, and sometimes they don't. That's what makes it fun!

We’re not trying to solve the world's problems, but who knows? Maybe we will.

Read more about Cindy and Ally.
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Topic: What are your bad habits?

Cindy Thinks

Ally Thinks

I almost bailed on this topic as I was really struggling to come up with any bad habits.

(Cause I’m just such a wonderful person.)

Or…I can’t keep focused long enough to think about any bad stuff about myself.

So I asked Ally.

I left her a voicemail saying that I was having a really hard time and needed her to tell me what bad habits I had.  (I figured they’d just roll off her tongue!)

Apparently, my message must have come off as somewhat needy with a high pitched voice, because she texted me back:

“Just got your message…be sure to add whining to the list.”

So I whine.  But only when I don’t get what I want…when I want it.

And I guess that’s a bad habit.

I also leave the TV on for the dogs when I’m not home.

I don’t really expect them to watch it, but somehow I feel like the noise of human voices coming out of the box on the wall will provide comfort to them in my absence.

But I know it doesn’t.  They could care less.  It just makes me feel better about leaving them.

And I know it’s a really bad habit because it totally wastes energy.

But I don’t stop.  I left it on for them tonight when I went out for dinner …as I was adding it to my list of bad habits.

And I waste water too.

I take really long showers and I leave the water running in the sink when I brush my teeth.

I know it’s wrong and wasteful, but I just let that water run and run and run (and please note… I am very clean).

And finally…

I use an enormous amount of tissues in any given day.

I wad them up in my pants, stuff them in my shirt cuffs (YES…like an 80 year old woman), shove a dozen or so loose tissues into my purse, and stash tons of them in every coat pocket in my closet.

The actual possession of tissues is not by itself a bad habit…no…it’s the mixture of the used and unused pieces that causes me to sift through them all seeking the most unused one…that I’d say is the bad part of the habit.

But I don’t stop.

I’m a waster.  And a mixer.

And now I have a whole new group of pet peeves (about me this time) that I can’t stand.

I should be shot.

My number one bad habit would be procrastination, which is why I’m sitting down to write this at 10:59 PM on Sunday night.

(I WANT TO GO TO BED, DAMN IT…)

Another bad habit?  Well, I have a few.

I bite my nails (and cuticles, which is horrible because that’s the stuff that hurts and looks ugly).

I sleep too late in the morning (which means that I’m often late to anything that’s scheduled before noon).

I let the dishes pile up in the sink (even though it drives me crazy every time I do it).

But a bad habit of mine which really drives OTHER people crazy?

I tear things up.

Discarded wrapping paper.

The labels on plastic bottles.

Magazines.

Sticky notes.

Napkins and tissues are the worst, but really any piece of scrap paper lying around will most likely be destroyed once I get my hands on it.

I don’t know what it is, but I can’t stop myself from ripping things up into tiny little pieces and making a mess.  Maybe it’s nerves, maybe it’s just something to pass the time, but you can always tell where I’m sitting at the dinner table by the remnants of paper left on my plate.

Most of the time I’m not even aware that I’m doing it, but others notice.

My mom doesn’t let me keep paper napkins at the table once I’m done eating.

Mike complains about the torn up tissues I leave in the pockets of his sweatshirts that I borrow.

Now that I think about it, it’s not limited to just paper products.  Really anything that will rip, I’ll destroy.

For example, I’m currently staring at one of those foam stress balls and there’s a chunk taken out of it.

See that?  My nervous habit is destroying my stress ball.

Maybe I should see a professional about this…

Hell, I’ll do that later.

Topic: What does romance mean to you?

Cindy Thinks

Ally Thinks

I think there’s a difference between “romance” and “romantic.”

To me, “romantic” refers to a moment in time.  An act that somehow conjures up visions of low lighting (candles maybe), roof top dinners (not that I’ve EVER experienced that), flowers (unexpectedly arriving with a loving note) or a presentation of a small, unmarked box with something sparkly inside (along with some low lighting and music in the background perhaps?).

It’s an expression of our love that happens at a specific time and place as in “we went out for a candlelit dinner last night and it was so romantic.”  Or…”he got me flowers every day last week”…”he’s soooo romantic.”

It’s when one person goes out of their way to set up a situation that says…”this is all about you.”  It makes us feel all warm inside with the knowledge that we’ve just been wrapped up tight in someone else’s admiration (adoration/love/wanting) of us…combining surprise, attention to detail and even ambience.

It’s romantic.

Now romance is a different thing for me all together.

It’s a process.  It happens over time.

It’s the act of being in love.    Like a constant state of being wooed, and wooing the other person, even after each has gotten comfortable with the other.

It’s about maintaining the flirt.

The blush.

The giggle.

The anticipation.

As I think back on it…I believe my parents lived a life of romance.  They believed in being in love.  Never taking each other for granted.  Keeping it fresh and alive.  Always flirting.

Don’t get me wrong…they had their ups and downs, their times when daily life overwhelmed them…but they would come out on the other side even more in love and exuding even more romance because (I think) they got through it together.

So I know it can happen.  But it’s not typical.

We usually refer to the beginning of our relationships as the time of our romance.  When we didn’t know each other well enough to take each other for granted…and were still trying to impress each other so that we could spend more time exploring one another.

That’s the exciting time.  It’s fresh.  It’s new.

But once we’ve gone through the hunt and landed our prey, we tend to let it go. (And I mean that in the most romantic way possible.)

But imagine what it would be like if we tried to maintain the romance.

If we kept up the flirt.

If we created situations where we didn’t quite know what to expect (and I’m not talking about going to a bar and pretending you don’t know each other).

If we infused a certain amount of surprise into our relationship…on an ongoing basis.

If we set up romantic moments other than just on Valentine’s Day.

IMAGINE what our long-term relationships would be like.

We might even blush with excitement like it was all fresh and new.  OY.

For me that’s romance.

I was going to start this post by talking about flowers and candlelight and walks on the beach and Richard Gere climbing a hooker’s fire escape (sorry: EX-hooker).  But really?  That’s not romance to me.  I don’t connect with or relate to those examples at all.  I’m not saying I’ve never gotten (and appreciated) a bouquet of roses, but that’s not my definition of romance.

Since I was having some trouble with this question, I did the cliche thing and looked “romance” up in the dictionary.  What came up surprised me:

{From Merriam-Webster}:
a medieval tale based on legend, chivalric love and adventure, or the supernatural (2) : a prose narrative treating imaginary characters involved in events remote in time or place and usually heroic, adventurous, or mysterious (3) : a love story especially in the form of a novel

{From Dictionary.com}: a baseless, made-up story, usually full of exaggeration or fanciful invention.

If you go further down, romance is defined as wooing or courting someone, but for the most part the dictionary gods define it as that section in the bookstore overflowing with paperbacks and pictures of men in kilts.

(Seriously – romance authors love to write about Scottish guys.)

(I know this because I work in a bookstore… not because I love to read about Scottish guys.)

My definition is a tad different.

I think that romance is anything that makes you or someone you care about feel loved and special.

Example from my relationship:

My mom gave Mike and me each a small heart-shaped box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day.  When I got home from work yesterday I asked Mike if he wanted to open his (so that I’d feel less guilty about opening mine… and having the contents for lunch…).  He turned to me and said, “Ally, each box has three pieces.  Why don’t you pick the three best, and take those for yourself.  Leave the ones you don’t want for me.”

(Awwww…)

So I ate a delicious chocolate covered caramel, then told Mike that I wanted him to have the other one because it was so yummy that I thought he should get to eat one, too.

That?  Is romance.

It’s not adventurous or exciting or heroic (well… the dude did offer to give up chocolate covered caramel, which makes him my hero).

It’s not really impressive.

But it made me feel special and loved.  And my leaving that second piece for him made him feel special and loved.

And it made us smile.

It may not end up as a paperback… but it’ll do just fine…

 

I have so many…it’s hard to narrow them all down to the biggest….which probably says more about me than about the peeves themselves.

But given this forum, I will certainly try.

In general, my pet peeves ALL have to do with noises.  Not just any noises.  People noises.

You know.  The kinds of sounds that people make that annoy, disturb and grate on your nerves down to your soul.

Like cracking knuckles.

OMG I hate it when people crack their knuckles.  I physically stop and turn and glare when I hear someone make that sound of bone joints being pushed in a downward motion until they involuntarily crack…out loud.

OY…it drives me nuts.

Some members of my family (you know who you are) would probably be much happier if they were “allowed” to crack their poor innocent knuckles in my presence, but alas…they know it will never happen.   Because it is the most god awful noise on the planet, and I’m not a nice enough person to “let it go” in favor of letting them indulge in something that drives me so insane.

Because it’s really about me.  Duh.

They’ve tried to tell me that they crack their knuckles “unconsciously.”  Like the urge to move the little bones in their hands until they snap, crackle and pop comes over them in some uncontrollable way.

I don’t think so.

If I want to let loose with an ear screeching squeal (like a panicked dolphin call)…of which I’ve been known to do in the presence of “unconscious” knuckle cracking…I do so with absolute intent.  There’s nothing unconscious about it.

So a word to the wise…when you’re near me, don’t crack your knuckles or I might start squealing at the top of my lungs.

Pet peeve #2…Cracking Gum (notice a pattern here).

Who really likes to be around someone who’s cracking their gum?

I mean really.  No one can crack their gum quietly or with grace.  No…it takes a good amount of jaw thrashing to move their gum strategically to the back of their jaws, while forcing an air bubble into the stretchy fibers, and then biting down at just the right moment to achieve the perfect crack.

It’s a disgusting habit that takes years to perfect…and I have to admit it…I’d like to kill anyone whose worked that hard to perfect it.

Really.

I actually almost lost a job once because I leapt over my desk at a co-worker who had been cracking her gum for 4 straight hours.   No warning…just leapt and went for her throat (her mouth actually to rip out the stupid gum) before another co-worker grabbed me and shook me to my senses.

Which brings me to my last biggest peeve.

Sniffing.

Don’t you think that people who sniff should be shot?

There is no reason for it.  We have tissues.  We have sleeves (I know it’s disgusting but it’s better than sniffing!).  So I have absolutely no tolerance for people who sniff.

Unless they’re at a funeral, in which case they get a sniffing pass.

Or they’re really sick with a raging sinus infection and a temperature of over 103 degrees (no less).

Otherwise…there is no excuse for sniffing.

Or cracking your knuckles or your gum.

Here it is.  The post where we talk about all of the things that annoy us, all of the things that make us shudder, the things that that make us silently (usually) judge others…

We all have our “pet peeves”, and I think that a lot of them can be pretty universal.  I don’t think I know anyone who loves people who talk on their cell phones in the movie theater.

(OK, maybe you like that (or DO that), but I’m thinking the majority of people out there tend to be annoyed by it.)

And I also think that the things that annoy us can be passed down from our parents.  At least that’s the case for me.

(I’m not saying that it’s genetic, but I wouldn’t be surprised if my loathing for the sound of people chewing or swallowing is programmed into my DNA.)

I grew up with parents who shared their opinions.  For my beautiful, loving mother, that meant we couldn’t get away with ANYTHING that annoyed her.

If we popped our gum or cracked our knuckles, we got a DEATH STARE (every mom has one), and I learned very early on that you don’t want the DEATH STARE.

So I quickly figured out how to avoid it, and soon those things became annoying to me, too.

So I’m betting that most of the things on her list are also on mine.

But in particular:

I can’t stand noises like nose sniffing or throat clearing.

I hate (HATE) hypocritical people.

Snobbery drives me crazy.

And one that’s manifested recently for me is people who share inane, pointless information on social networks.  Sure, I’ve been known to do it myself, but in the last couple of months I’ve become increasingly ticked off by it.  The truth is that I don’t care what you ate for breakfast or who you ate that breakfast with.  It’s gotten to the point where I’ve had to severely limit my time online because it was affecting my happiness (and probably my blood pressure)…

Speaking of pet peeves related to social networks: the other thing that annoys me to no end (and I know I’m not the only one), are status updates that are purposefully vague and that beg the question “WHAT HAPPENED???”  For the love of the Facebook gods, people, stop leaving status updates that say “In the ER…” or “My life is over” or “My heart is broken because the man I’ve loved for 13 years did this to me…”  JUST STOP IT.  I know that the ability to share these things (and evoke sympathy) is tempting, but either be explicit (as in “I’m in the ER but it’s because I got a pencil stuck in my ear again, so no big deal”) or keep it off of the internet.

(Ahem.)

I would apologize for the rant, but let’s face it, pet peeves do that to us.  My mom’s stare didn’t happen without passion and fury and all of the pain that the sound of cracking knuckles brings up for her.

Pet peeves make us rant and rave and TYPE IN ALL CAPS and unleash the DEATH STARE…

Passion is good.

And if these stupid, annoying things are what get my blood boiling… well, then I have it pretty damn easy.

Plus, I really, really like typing in all caps…

(PS: If we’re Facebook friends, I’m not talking about your Facebook updates.  Your Facebook updates are always awesome and witty and relevant.)

(PPS: Please still be my friend.)