Speaking While Tired

I should not speak when I am overly tired. I find myself far more likely to express opinions that I do not actually hold, or at least express them in a way that does not accurately reflect them. Often, when I am speaking while tired, there is another voice in my head asking, "What are you saying? Did you check with the rest of us voices to make sure we agreed on the position you are currently espousing?"

(It is the inability of the tired mind to work in concert with itself that sets it apart from the alert mind. Also, the inability to use words like "espousing.")

For example, today in describing why I did not particularly care if I attended a certain meeting I said that I dislike conflict, which led to me saying I dislike arguments, which led to me saying I only liked arguments I won. Now, I am sure there are amounts of truth in all of those statements...uncomfortably so in the last case. But they don't comprise the whole truth.

Do you often get at the whole truth in a crowded church hallway? Probably not. Still, propogating half-truths doesn't seem like the right solution. Especially because there are people who simply accept the words out of your mouth as the totality of your opinion on a matter (which is most of my real problem with improperly conducted arguments, actually).

As I grow, I want to speak less and say more. Especially when I am tired.

Last night I was on Heroes.

Sort of.

I had recently discovered I had electricity powers, sort of like Kristen Bell’s character has. I could zap things, and also I could fly (because of some electricity current thing). I was still trying to figure out how this power worked, and it kept running out, leaving me with mere trickly blue light with about as much force as static electricity. I realized this power needed recharging, and somehow I knew that it would be recharged by other electric bursts (guess I was a bit like Megavolt, from Darkwing Duck?).

So finally I came to a decision that action must be taken. I “climbed” a pine tree during a lightning storm (I didn’t have to do much actual climbing because my flight powers were letting me sort of hover my way up—bit by bit, because my powers weren’t highly charged at this point), and waited for a lightning strike that I knew would fully charge my powers forever.

“Will this hurt?” I thought apprehensively. “Nah…lightning can’t really hurt me, I have lightning powers.”

Later, I was hanging out with an unknown girl and Claire-Peter (she was Claire, but didn’t really look like Claire, and she had Peter’s powers on top of hers) in Claire-Peter’s room, and I was telling her something about how my powers were a little hard to explain, and she pointed to the ceiling, where I saw a large number of metal darts.

“Ohhhh,” I said, enlightened, because I also had practiced manipulating metal darts with my powers (electricity provides extensive powers, apparently).

Then, out of nowhere, Claire-Peter pulled two darts from the ceiling with her power and shot them across the room at me and this other girl.

“Ow!” we said. “We don’t have regenerative powers like you, remember?”

“Sorry,” she said. “I forgot.”

And that’s about where I woke up.

Too late...but maybe next year....

Some friends of mine and I (all big fans of The Office) have jokingly discussed the possibility of taking an Office roadtrip, where each of us would pick a character and then stay in character as long as possible for the whole trip. If only this had been serious, we could have attended...THE OFFICE CONVENTION.

Yes. Seriously.

I have wanted to attend a fan convention for so long. Star Trek...ComicCon...that sort of thing. I think a convention for The Office would work, too.

I am such a nerd. I love that about me. I love that I know more about comic book lore than most of the teenage boys in my church. (Admittedly, the nerd ratio in my church is almost disturbingly low.) I love quoting random TV/movie bits with friends. And how fun would it be to go to a nerd convention??? Aside from the being surrounded by strangers, I mean?

Years ago, Stephenie said something to me that I have mostly not forgotten (I say "mostly" because I'm sure it has been slightly paraphrased over time). It remains one of my favorites Nerd Suzanne quotes: "How are you not dating? I'd think you could walk into a Star Trek convention and walk out with a guy hanging from every limb."

Yes, I'm pretty sure taking a road trip to Scranton with a car (or van) full of Office wannabes would be hilarious. If I ever actually go, I'll let you know how it turns out.

Absolutely, I will.

My Life as a Musical

Sometimes I wish I were the only person in the world...or at least that I could suspend time or become invisible so as to produce the same effect without damaging long-term loneliness. I most frequently wish this when I am outside. Unlike inside, outside is an uncontrolled environment. I could run across any number of people I had not planned to run across. These people could be hostile. These people could just be male, which is almost the same thing.

What's the problem? The problem is that I have a jukebox in my head. (Also in my iPod, which only magnifies the head jukebox problem.) And when a song comes over the jukebox, I often want to sing along with it, and usually do a little dancing to it, too.

I have embraced this eccentricity far more recently due to my pastor and his kids, who all vocalize their internal jukebox soundtracks. I have much less of a problem breaking into snatches of song when in the company of friends. I have been taught, however, possibly just by being female, that it's not a great idea to draw attention to myself outside the company of friends. If I were to go skipping and dancing along down the trails near my place, who knows what could happen. I don't care nearly as much as I used to about people laughing at me. I am still concerned that random strangers could fall madly in love with my carefree abandon, and I would be breaking who knows how many hearts. And that is the most pleasant option. (And if you think that option is not that bad, you don't know me very well.)

Nichole (a friend from college) had a sort of fantasy in which she and a large group of her friends would go to a mall and divide up into various stores. Then Nichole would start walking through the mall singing, and her friends would jump out of the stores at various points and join in, and everyone who wasn't in on it would wonder what they had wandered into.

My musical fantasies aren't that complicated. I just want to do a little twirling and fake choreography from time to time when I'm out walking.

Until I get braver, I guess I'll settle for dancing until I round corners...and making 360 degree turns slowly as though I had to look at something behind me...and extending my arms as though it were part of my exercise regimen.

My life as a stealth musical.