Connect the Random Dots

I know that many of my posts are deep and tear inducing. I guess I start writing and all the heavy stuff pours out.  It really has been a good place for self-therapy. I am thankful that I have this space to vomit all the hurt and confusion and anger and heartbreak – better out than in is my theory.  That’s what I tell my husband and kids when they puke or have diarrhea.  They usually aren’t too thrilled with my “encouraging” words.  (but it’s true).

Here’s the thing – (another popular Angela phrase) – I’m not really that serious on a day-to-day basis.  If you got to (had to) spend a few days with me, I would venture to say that you’d either love me or hate me.  I really am as optimistic as I write and tweet.  There’s always a bright side. No matter how bad things seem – they could always be worse. I am that person in the office that gets to know everyone – I will know your name, and tease you and make jokes and act like I’ve known you for years.  I say Good Morning, even at 4:00 am.  I smile at babies and strangers. I ask homeless people if I can pet their dog and always tell them to be safe. I like to ask people how their day is going and I like to know the answer.  When someone says ‘Knock-Knock’ at my office door, I always say ‘Who’s there?’ fully expecting them to give me a joke. And when they don’t, I tell them my favorite office knock-knock joke.

Knock-knock.

Who’s there?

Alaska.

Alaska who?

Alaska question and be on my way.

I giggle at the slightest hint of innuendo and when the mood strikes me, I can turn almost anything into a dirty joke.  I can’t help but make jokes when I see a Dick’s Sporting Goods store. I swear more than I probably should, but sometimes nothing does the job like a good ‘F’ bomb.

Before you start to think that I’m completely wonderful – I’m not always wonderful.  I can be pretty judgey.  I will judge you by your grocery cart. If everything in your cart fits together like a Tetris game because you only purchase boxed, pre-made food, I will look away, roll my eyes, and wonder, How can people eat that way? If you have tweezed or shaved off your eyebrows and drawn them back on to look like a Nike swoosh, I will judge you.  Why would you do that? And those eyebrows do NOT look like eyebrows. It reminds me of the time Chase shaved off Brice’s hair and eyebrows. I kept waiting for the school to call to ask me if Brice was going thru chemotherapy. To make things better, Chase filled in Brice’s bare face with eyebrows and a mustache courtesy of Sharpie.

But I digress.

I really don’t like smoking.  I used to smoke, so I feel somewhat entitled to say this.  It is just so stinky – it makes your breath, hands and clothes stink.  I like things that smell nice.  And I am a sucker for a good smelling man.  I buy “man” candles, just so my room will smell like men’s cologne. I will tell you if I think you smell nice, even if you’re a stranger.  I will compliment your outfit, your haircut, your boots – men and women alike.

I don’t like when people talk about how much they spent on their house, car, or exotic vacation loudly in public just so that other people will hear them. And I will really judge you if you let your child act like a brat in public. I will judge you if you are clearly and obviously high maintenance. And sometimes I judge people for behaviors that I see in myself – dammit it hurts when that happens. Really sometimes I am not a nice person.  And during this recent election season, I am trying really hard not to judge people that supported Donald Trump, because I just don’t understand how anyone can think that we should have that vile of a man representing the greatest country on earth, and then I have to remember that it is the freedoms that I hold dear that allows even him the freedom of speech.

And again, I digress.

I love people watching. I love making up stories about their lives in my head.  I wonder where they are from and what they are really like. If I am alone in a restaurant or coffee shop, I watch people’s body language and wonder what brought them there and what they are talking about. Sometimes I will pull out a journal and write down my observations, which sometimes makes the restaurant manager ask you if are a food critic and give you free dessert.  The other day I watched 3 grown men stall at the Starbucks entrance as they each insisted on letting the other gentlemen go first. Later I admired 3 old men and 1 one young man all trying to hold a baby boy at the same time, outside the grocery store, all of them smiling and happy. And then topped the evening off listening to 3 boisterous men one-up each other about getting drunk, fighting, and sleeping with whatever-her-name was.  Good to know that the good men outweighed the bad.  I think they usually do.  I hope they do.

Overall, I really am optimistic and hopeful. Life is so beautiful and adventurous.  There is so much in our lives to be thankful for. Optimism doesn’t mean that you don’t acknowledge that there are some terrible and ugly things in our world. That’s just dumb. But it does mean that I don’t dwell on the negative.  It means I look for the silver lining.  It means I try to remember that things could be worse.  It means I’m grateful for the little things in my life, and remember that to everything there is a season, and a purpose. Even if I never know what that purpose is.