ugh. as someone who very rarely opened her mouth from preschool to 8th grade, with the slight emergence of a cognitive being in high school, i have to say, this having an opinion thing is hard. i never feel justified in having any, most of the time. so i just have mine. and then people ask me to explain them, and i get all muddled. because i really don’t know shit about shit. i just know how i feel. and i guess i do blindly hold some of mine because of what i thought i learned in the media. so i’m going to have to do some research and figure out why i have certain opinions, and make sure i know some shit about shit. but i’m sure i’ll be missing some crucial element. there is always some crucial element missing.
these men both have opinions and know how to use them
i can’t wait until my peppy dance/muscletone instructor superficially invigorates me with enthusiasm. this lady is truly a miracle worker. you could be hunched over in extreme respiratory pain, and she will make you, for a brief instant, feel transitory bliss. i am very excited for these choreographed moments, though they are few and far between. mostly i seethe as she chirps.
gym class standouts
The other day I was running and it was raining. I passed a tiny boy in his bright blue rainjacket playing with a puddle.
“Hi!” he yelled, making me pause my efforts.
“Hello,” I said.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I am running,” I said, “What are you doing?”
“I am playing with this puddle,” he stated authoritatively but he got quite distracted again in the wonders of the puddle as he was illustrating his work.
It was a lovely thing.
from Oscar Wilde’s “The Importance of Being Ernest”…as given to me by Intern Chris.
CECILY. I think your frankness does you great credit, Ernest. If you
will allow me, I will copy your remarks into my diary.
ALGERNON. Do you really keep a diary? I’d give anything to look at it. May I?
CECILY. Oh no. You see, it is simply a very young girl’s record of
her own thoughts and impressions, and consequently meant for