I am really not a phone person. Maybe I spent too much time on the phone when I was younger, maybe I am more easily distracted now (ever notice how your kids never need you as much as when you are on the phone?), or maybe all those years of listening to music way, way too loud have taken their toll. Maybe it's a combination of all three plus a few others I can't remember because as I type, I'm thinking about something else, my fingers are freezing, and I really want a nap.
What was I talking about? Oh, right. I'm not a phone person.
But, to my great surprise, I have spent more time on the phone since we've moved to North Carolina than I have in the last three years combined.
I have no idea why.
Every now and then, when I'm talking to my friend Megan, we'll start talking about one thing, drift to another, and then I'll end up relating to something completely different with an anecdote about my past.
Okay, fine. I said every now and then, but I really meant every time.
I've lead an interesting life, okay? It's like the six degrees of Kevin Bacon game. In the end everything is relate-able.
So last week the subject came up of double standards. It was an involved conversation that I couldn't even begin to try and rehash on my blog. (You're welcome. HA!)
I ended up talking about how males and females were treated differently in my family growing up and how I feel that has translated into many of the core differences between me and my brother.
|image courtesy of www.cosatu.org.za|
I'd relate it to my other siblings too, but I don't have any. My step sister and I weren't raised in the same environment, so she
I was relating the 'boys need more' philosophy that I heard from my grandfather all the time when I was growing up. I'll spare you those conversations too, mainly because they are completely ridiculous.
After a few minutes of listening to me, Megan chimes in and says something to the effect of, "I do not understand why you are not walking around biting at your own eye."
Isn't talking about something from 30+ (and heavy on the plus, unfortunately) years ago evidence enough that in a way, I AM biting at my own eye?
After thinking about it for a minute or two, I explained that it was all normal to me until I got older and realized that not everyone was raised this way. And that once I realized that, it was like I had been set free - because even at 9, I knew that was a load of crap, but I didn't dare say it.
So why am I not biting at my eye? Well, probably because my hearing is already going, I'm starting to ache when it's really cold, and every year my body feels older than the year before. So why take out a reasonably working, vision-corrected-through-glasses eye?