An imaginary conversation about spelling

Did I tell you that the other day I realized that I had been pronouncing and spelling the word obstinate incorrectly for my entire life?

Obstinant?

Yes, exactly. 

No, do you mean obstinant?

That is what I am saying. It isn’t obstinant. It’s obstinate. 

No way. 

Way. 

I’ve been saying it wrong too!

I must have looked it up 20 times to make sure. 

What else do you suppose you are wrong about?

There is no telling. It could be anything. I’m just going to have to be prepared for it.  

Who told you? 

No one. I was saved by autocorrect. Of course I didn’t believe it. So I looked it up before I sent the message and discovered that I was wrong. 

While cursing autocorrect, naturally. 

Of course. Like you do. 

So you didn’t have to tell anyone you were wrong. 

I don’t mind being wrong. And stop snickering. 

You do too mind. 

I’m wrong sometimes. Like everyone. Seriously. Stop. Snickering is not polite when I am baring my soul. 

Obstinately. 

Ass. 

What other favorite words do you think you have wrong?

None, I hope. Do you think I should make a list of my favorite words and post them as an excuse to spell check them all?

Oh yeah. Everyone wants to read a list of words. 

Some people like words. 

Do not post a list of words on the blog. 

You aren’t my editor. 

Clearly. 

What else should I not post about?

There’s an awful lot of shit about feelings. 

Yes. That is because I have feelings quite often. 

You really do. Oh, don’t look at me like that. 

It’s how I look when people are being douche canoes. 

I don’t mean it. I like to hear about your feelings. 

That is unfortunate, because now I am going to have to change my focus. 

Uh huh. 

To the wonderful world of fleece. 

Fleece?

Fleece. 

The stuff they make sweatshirts of?

No, no. The stuff that grows on sheep and alpacas and stuff. 

Fleece. 

Fleece! I have a lot of it, you know. 

No, I did not know that about you. What do you do with it?

Spin it. 

Spin it?

Why are you repeating everything I say?

Because sometimes I find you what you say a little bit confusing. 

Spinning is when you take the fleece, and prepare it in whatever way…and then you use a spindle or spinning wheel to turn it into thread or yarn. 

Are you kidding me?

About what?

You know how to spin?

Sure.

Sometimes you can be very surprising. 

Thanks. 

I’m not sure I meant it as a compliment. 

I took it as one. 

Because you are obstinate. 

No, because I am an optimist. 

You are not. 

Am too. I am an optimistic pessimist. 

Meaning?

A lot of shitty things are going to happen, but I will always be OK. 

Optimistic pessimism?

Right. 

I like it. 

No, you just like me. 

That, you are right about. 

Thanks. 

An imaginary conversation about compliments

We need to teach you to accept a compliment.

I never get any–and stop rolling your eyes at me!

You get them all the time, and you act weird every time. 

It’s not an act, you know. I am weird. 

Yes, but you are especially weird when someone says something nice to you. 

Like what?

I loved the post you wrote about teenagers having the right idea about love. 

There were so many things I should have added! It could have way better!

See?

What? It could have. 

That was a compliment. 

And I should have said?

“Thank you, I’m happy you enjoyed it.” 

Got it. 

That color looks amazing on you. 

I need to fix the tear in the sleeve. This poor dress is…oh. “Thank you so much!”

Maybe there’s hope for you. 

I’m moderately trainable. 

You are one of the smartest people I know. It’s why I love you. 

There are way smarter people than me, you know…

What was that about being trainable?

D’oh!



Lesson from teenage me

My teenage self had a shit ton of issues. I was way too emotional. Too shy. Too over analytical. Too afraid of everything. Too self centered. 

One thing teenage me was absolutely right about?  Love.  It’s the one thing I got right the first time, changed my mind about when it didn’t work out and then changed my mind about again. Back to the way I saw it as a teenager. 

When I fell in love for the first time, it never occurred to me to worry about it. I was in love. It was forever. He would never hurt me. Of course it wasn’t, and he did. Well..we could debate the forever part.  There do appear to be aspects of our relationship that are about as “forever” as anything ever is.  He hurt me, I suppose I managed to hurt him too. 

Teenage me was wrong about not being hurt. Wrong about the romance lasting forever. 

What did my teenage self get right about it? A lot. I was in love with every fiber of my being.  My faith in love, and in him were utterly unshakeable. I loved him with every part of my body, brain and heart. I didn’t  give a shit if someone thought I was displaying my affection too openly. In fact, I didn’t even see the disapproval. Well, maybe I noticed some disapproval whenever  the Vice Principal dragged us out of some dark corner. I didn’t care what anyone else thought about him or about the two of us. To me, he was perfect. I even loved his flaws. 

Teenage me jumped into love without hesitation, or reservation. I was in with my entire being, and that is exactly how it should be. 

It’s harder when you’re an adult. You know you’ll be hurt. You know you can’t trust everyone. You want to hold back, and you shouldn’t.  Adults have to be all in even knowing what can go wrong. 

And we should do it anyway. 

Just this once, listen to the teenagers.

Make out in the car. Smell his hair. Stroke his leg through the hole in his jeans. Put your head on his chest to listen to his heart beating. Let yourself sigh with contentment when you put your head on his shoulder. Let other people become invisible for a while. Let yourself enjoy everything about him. Look at him so he knows that you would really love to lick him..

Let it all be new. 

Be in love like you don’t have a sink full of dirty dishes, laundry to put away and a job to go to. 

Be in love like you’re 14 and it’s the best thing to ever happen. 

It is.