My manager at work has a sheet of paper pinned to the half-wall protruding thing that divides our two desks. It describes four different types of personalities, splitting each into a different colour. It's supposed to help you understand how people will react to different situations, which in turn will help you communicate with them.
Um.
I hate it.
I haven't really figured out why it bothers me, but something about the existence of this sheet of paper makes me depressed about humankind. I get a sinking feeling in my stomach knowing that this is what the world's come to. We need guides and workshops and training to tell us who we are, and how we can 'manage' each other? Don't we have anything better to do?
Ugh, I'm really struggling to pinpoint why this irritates me so much. A few years ago I probably would have loved to decide what category I belong to. It would have been a fun game to go through everyone I know and designate them a personality type. But right now it bugs me.
Anyway, enough whining. I made a photocopy of it knowing what a good blog topic it would be. Let's take a look at it, shall we?
I couldn't really take a good pic of it, so I've written out what the paper says below:
See what I mean? What a load of shize. At least I learned a fun new phrase - 'analysis paralysis'.
Anyway, I suppose I am mostly yellow. But I think I have some green and red qualities too. I'm definitely not blue.
But why does the multi-award-winning hit HBO series that everybody loves need defending?
Maybe it doesn't, but like all things that are generally agreed to be 'good', there's an inevitable backlash. People look for reason why it might not be good. Drunk with open mindedness, critics start to think things like, 'wait a minute, maybe this thing that people think is good isn't really good after all!' Then they write about it and we all get to feel bad about having so misguidedly believed it to be good. Ah, jeez.
Well, I'm taking a preemptive stand when it comes to 'Girls.' I like the show; so here's my unsolicited defense:
As far as I'm concerned, the show might as well be called 'Girl'. It couldn't and wouldn't be the success it is without Hannah (and not just because Lena Dunham is the creator/executive producer). One of the critiques I've seen about the show is that the characters are simply unlikeable. I disagree, since they can be pretty relatable (if they don't remind you of yourself, they remind you of a friend) and that allows them to retain a bit of charm. However, I suppose I get the point when it comes to Marnie, Jessa and Shoshonna. Hannah is clearly the best. Yes, she's spoiled and whiny - but that's the point! The fact that you still root for her says a lot about what a well-acted, well-conceived character she is. The scenes without Hannah are worse, but luckily there aren't that many of them.
Another critique I've come across - Lena Dunham has only gotten to where she is because of her Hollywood connections. Um, who cares. Isn't life all about who you know? I thought that was a thing that teachers and parents say to emphasise the importance of networking. But now that's a bad thing? Plus, there are plenty of well-connected people who don't do anything with their lives (I'm looking at you Nicole Richie) and even if they try, there's still the chance of failing (Rob Kardashian's sock company comes to mind). As my 'Critical Thinking' course at GU taught me, when you attack the person behind the argument (or show, in this case) rather than the points they're making, that's called ad hominum - AND I WON'T STAND FOR IT! Snap, snap, snap.
So, the show's funny. It's well-acted. It's well-observed. It's realistic, but it's also ridiculous at times (because true reality, even as part of 'reality tv' will never really exist as entertainment). Yes, Hannah gets naked a lot and her body is 'weird', but probably on the same level of weird as my body when I didn't poop for three months. I don't really care how or if Hannah's cellulite is changing Hollywood's attitude toward women. But I do think it makes the show more realistic; so good.
Anyway, I like it. I can see why people like Andy who have no tolerance for flawed individuals wouldn't like it (he's never seen it, but I think I can predict his disinterest). So if you suspect you're not up for it - if you can't handle the bratty entitlement that is one's early 20s - then give it a pass. But if you've heard about the show, think it looks good and haven't gotten around to watching it - WATCH IT!
I was planning on wearing the dress that I won from a box of cereal, but at the last minute I picked up this little number. I justified the expense by telling myself I will also wear it to two other weddings this summer - my brother Max's and my friend Jody's. Honestly, I really never spend money on clothes (did you know jeans are only £7 at Primark?); so I refuse to feel bad about it.
ANYWAY, between the new dress and the smorgasbord of tasty or-derves (yep - deal with it), I was in good spirits.
But there was one tense moment during the event. When the groom was delivering his speech (which was FAB, btw), Andy leaned over and said something to one of his friends. Instinctively, without even realising what I was doing, I uttered the following (in my loudest whisper):
"Andy! Either learn to whisper, or don't talk at all!"
Andy laughed, those within earshot smiled, and we all returned our attention to the speech. Still, I instantly regretted it - not because I think I was wrong, but because I've been gaining ground in my case to convince Andy that I don't 'nag' him and I knew this would set me back. Weeks worth of biting my tongue when he doesn't let the tea bag brew long enough - all for naught.
Anyway, now that I'm on the subject, I might as well pursue this 'boys can't whisper' phenomenon a bit further.
Firstly, am I stereotyping when I say "boys can't whisper"? Yes. So, why do I say it? Because saying "based on my experience many boys I know can't whisper" doesn't have the same ring to it. Grant me this excuse and I promise not to get offended when fools say things like "women are crazy" or "is it that time of the month again?" (hardy har har).
Secondly, it genuinely is something I've noticed about boys (or 'men', if you prefer that grosser term) - they struggle to whisper. Instead, they just speak at a normal volume with reckless regard for the circumstance! Now, is this because they just don't care, or because they actually physically can't whisper (or it's at least really difficult for them)? If you too have noticed this, please let me know your thoughts.
In defense of boys, I currently work with two girls (or 'women', if you prefer that grosser term) who are the SOFTEST whisperers ever. They'll lean over their desks and form words with their mouths, but I hear nothing. NOTHING! And I can tell by their expression it's something juicy! I usually say 'WHAT?' in an excited non-whisper, which causes them to look around for eavesdroppers and decide against gossiping after all. Sigh.
So, Tesco was supposed to deliver a bag of Quorn meatless meatballs (bee-tea-dub, 'meatless meatballs' is my new favourite word combo) with our grocery order. I've been craving them ever since Char wrote a blog post about them. Carnivores, scoff all you want - at least it's not horse, you pony killers!
Am I upset? HELLZ to the no. I love pizza. Sadly, Tesco knows me better than I know myself. I didn't want meatless meatballs after all - it was mini pizzas I wanted all along.
They are cooking as I type this.
Ugh, but the pan on the bottom rack of the oven smells like burning salmon because we didn't clean it from last night.
I am staying one night at theDoubletree hotel in Aberdeen in a month and I'm ecstatic. Seriously, couldn't be more thrilled. If I was hooked up to an excited-o-meter, my readings would be off the chart. You would think it was a 3-week stay at an all inclusive resort in Hawaii or something. But no, it's a one-nighter at a mid-range hotel in the 'Granite City'. So, the reason for my excitement? It all comes down to two words:
HOT TUB.
After three years in summerless Scotland (Yep, they don't have summer here. Have I not told you?) my bones are permafrost. The thought of soaking in a hot, bubbly 105°F tub is filling me with Christmas morning, birth of child, new season of Mad Men levels of joy.
Yes, I'm going to Aberdeen to see Andy run an ultra marathon, and I'm staying in Aberdeen for the hot tub. And the cookies. The Doubletree serves you warm cookies upon arrival. What complete and utter ANGELS. It's as if their entire business model (hot tub + cookie = good hotel) was developed just for me. Doubletree, if you're listening, I love you. Also, enjoy this free promotion. But if you ever want another one, please pay me for it (in cookies, LOLZ!).
In other news, I have had an epiphany this weekend: I am unable to 'check out'. In some ways, this is BAD. It means I struggle to relax and switch my brain off. However, in other ways, I am glad to be this way. It means I'm passionate, I take pride in what I do and I think creatively. It's the reason bizarre videos like Kenmore Jam and Christmas Time exist. It's the reason I have a podcast!
SO THERE!
Me in a rare moment of relaxation.
Now, off to steam some broccolini (broccoli's gay cousin),
