Eccentric Flower talk:201101/Blessedly Punctured
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Comments on Eccentric Flower:201101/Blessedly Punctured
Bunny, technically, it should be, "It's just I." [ducks]
I don't get the "why would anyone think what I have to say is interesting" thing, either in you or Columbina or anyone. If you can express yourself intelligently, then people will be interested in at least some of what you have to say. Sure, it may not be 100% of everyone all the time (I tend just to scan C's online gaming posts because the activity is Not My Thing). But it's like the college rule: Take the professor, not the class. A good teacher can make any subject interesting (Ex. A in my case was Federal Income Tax -- terrific prof. who talked a lot about policy rather than "go hunt for obscure provisions of the Code"). If you can express yourself -- and you can -- "I think think this is interesting, and here's why," is going to be good enough for most people.
-- 17:10, 19 January 2011 (GMT)
I was going to write a long and slightly-too-autobiographical-for-my-comfort entry last night about how I learned the "better to assume no one cares about the things which interest me" rule, among others. Then I thought better of it when I realized where my mood was; at the very least, I told myself, wait until you're not in this hole to write that. Of course, once I'm out of the hole (I'm not completely out yet) then writing it will seem like a spectactularly bad idea and a dodged bullet.
But I'll try to clarify by saying that there's a difference between "I don't think anyone would think what I have to say is interesting" and "It's much safer to assume by default that no one thinks what I have to say is interesting."
This should be an entry of its own, but if I put it there, people will fuss about it, whereas if I put it here, people will ignore it:
I feel sometimes like I am walking in a world of gray people. Some of us are wearing bright colors, but the smart ones among us who do, hide the bright colors under gray topcoats, and we show our colors only in carefully-verified safe places, or at our peril. The gutters are full of the bodies of people who walked openly in color.
Of course the problem with that, apart from its being rather grim, is that I am Spectacularly Unclubbable - I am the epitome of the Mark Twain quote about not wanting to join any club that would have me as a member - because I am suspicious of groups and group identity; so often I feel like I have no safe space in which to show my colors, and that pushes me to the verge of despair on days when other circumstances (health, sleep, weather, etc) are not very good.
-- 17:54, 19 January 2011 (GMT)
Bunny, technically, it should be, "It's just I." [ducks]
So much for my feeble attempt at humor. I'm well aware that you are correct, but it sounds so stilted and stuffy, and, often, doesn't fit the context. We grammarians are a snooty bunch of dinosaurs who trip over syntax errors to the point of letting them interrupt a cracking good read. I'm on the verge of throwing in the towel on "who vs that" when referring to people, f'rinstance. It's everywhere, and I can't change it. Hurts my ears, breaks my train of thought, I need to get over it, already.
As for interesting, I tend to learn from others more than doing the research on my own. So I come across as not-well-versed in the topic and tend to shy away from contributing. Sean and I have discussed this very thing, in relation to learning a new computer app, or such. I want to attend a class, where somebody else will tell me the basics, set me on my own to try it out, then be there for me to ask when something eludes me. He, on the other hand, is content to sit and futz with it, learn its ins and outs on his own. It's a totally different approach. Neither one is wrong, but, in the long run, he tends to learn and retain more by doing than I do by reading and asking. It's a wiring thing.
Anyway, that's what I meant about not being interesting. I can contribute zero to a discussion about anime or gaming. But I read the posts anyway, because I'm interested in how people approach a problem or interpret a comment. When I jump in, it's usually tentative, and, often, to ask a question.
-- 18:00, 19 January 2011 (GMT)
I love that analogy with the colors. You and I know what's deep down inside us, but, for whatever reason, have learned to hide our, for lack of a better word, eccentricities, for fear of being laughed at or ridiculed. "I mean, how could you actually LIKE that?" I know I got my "training" at an early age, and it has stuck with me. I had to be quiet a LOT when I was working, because I'm not in any way mainstream about pretty much anything. My lifestyle choices, my love of colors, my... politics... were always off the beaten path. And if I mentioned things like that, I got the hairy eye and people backed away. After a while, you learn to keep your own counsel.
That's why this space is so refreshing. Even when I come across as demented (Yeah, I'm still slogging through Decision Points) no one berates me to the point of pain. I'm thinking that being taken seriously, as an intelligent adult with a right to a considered opinion, is such a precious commodity, finding a forum such as this is better than chocolate. (Of course, that's not technically possible, but you get my drift.)
-- 18:11, 19 January 2011 (GMT)
My suspicion is that the world is full of colorful people wrapped in gray.
Whether that makes matters more hopeful or more depressing is a matter of perspective.
-- 21:36, 19 January 2011 (GMT)
Huh. See, I was always Class Clown (and with a Vicious Tongue). My hiding was done in plain sight. To extend the analogy, I wouldn't hide the bright color or two I had behind gray; I'd hide it behind a rainbow cloak, with a sign that said, "Yeah, it's a rainbow cloak -- wanna make something of it?" How people reacted, and to what extent they'd get the joke, determined how far in they got.
It worked pretty well for a long time (until I realized I was missing out on a lot of good people who simply lacked the hurdling skills/desires of an Edwin Moses). One anecdote: I'm at the snooty, are-you-rich-and-or-beautiful frat during my freshman rush week (which at the time was also my first week, period) at the Institvte (yeah, I'm not sure how I wandered in there in the first place, but anyway). A conversation ensues among a couple of members and freshman about ways to stay awake. Some take No Doz, some drink lots of coffee, some like coca-cola. At my turn, I say, "I like to eat instant coffee out of the jar." Stunned silence. "Yeah," I continue, "I figure, why dilute it?" Others edge away slowly. It was a highly useful exercise in showing me that this was Not A Good Place For Me.
-- 21:43, 19 January 2011 (GMT)
Others edge away slowly.
Yup. Exactly. Back in my day (in the caves, ya know) what has evolved into something called polyamory was referred to as open marriage. I had one, for a while. Well, you wanna talk about edging away! That kind of thing just wasn't done. Hairy eyes abounded, so I learned to hide the colors and kept quiet about it.
Nowadays, when I'm around my former coworkers, I keep pretty quiet about opposing the death penalty. We conservatives aren't supposed to have such radical ideas. Many times, it's a question of not engaging in a war of wits with an unarmed opponent... But mostly it comes down to discussions in the proper forum. Work isn't/wasn't it.
-- 01:12, 20 January 2011 (GMT)
Bunny42:
Wiping your ass with a racoon???
All that snow was bound to get to you sooner or later.
Great article. I was remembering your reluctance to engage in face-to-face encounters and hoping the article didn't make you sad and frustrated.
Two of my only three best friends in the world are deceased or dying. I've been thinking about that a lot, lately. When one is as picky as I am with whom they associate, it's no mean feat discovering new "best friends." Do I lower my standards? Or do I wait, and hope I happen across someone of like mind? Clearly, it's my own fault for being so particular. But what do I do about it now? Talk about hard-wired. I've been able to interact with a few people online, because I can pick and choose which interests...uh... interest me and engage in conversation. I hardly ever begin the conversation, because I'm pretty sure no one will be interested in what I think. Why should they be, right? It's just me (did I say grammar was one of my interests?) opining about something. Not groundbreaking, seldom consequential. The kind of things best friends can talk about in passing, but who else would care?
The article made me wonder if I'm lacking the social gene. Everyone's on Facebook. Why not Miss Bunny?
The word for this month appears to be conundrum. I see it everywhere, lately, even as the name of a bottle of white wine. Well, I seem to have one.
As for your apology, I'm just really glad you didn't delete the entry. You needn't apologize. You might be surprised how many of your circle have actual, ya know, down days, too.
-- 16:15, 19 January 2011 (GMT)