Skip to main content

My Flower Pants.

Today was laundry day so I was wearing my stretchy flower pants. They're great. They're loud, they're comfortable.

And as I wore them I was wondering how many other hundreds of women wear these same copy of pants from Old Navy, and I started to wonder what those other women are like, and would I be friends with them or would our conversation be nonexistent or would we even cross paths in the first place? Would it be embarrassing and appalling when we saw each other wearing cloned clothing, like when Lindsey Lohan sees her school enemy in Freaky Friday, and they're both wearing the same shirt? (Lindsey Lohan's character, by the way/if you'll remember, turns her shirt inside out after that so that her shirt doesn't "match" anymore and wears it with the crazy messy thread side out the rest of the day).

And as I wore those flower pants I was thinking about this conversation I was having the other day with a woman I greatly admire. I don't know if she's the type to wear these type of flower pants, but she's someone I feel like I have a decent amount in common with. But our conversation was so awkward, so choppy... and I wondered why it was that way. I left the conversation feeling mildly uncomfortable for no apparent reason. I wondered what social skills I lack or social skills she lacks that would make our talk so halted--or were our social skills to blame at all? Was it our similarities that blinded us from chat?

And why is it that there are people that I have such differing opinions and interests with, yet they're some of my very best friends (and family members)? How is it that I can I talk for hours on end and laugh til I cry with people that haven't stepped foot in a classroom since their childhood, don't read or write for leisure, could care less about cooking, and haven't ever ridden a horse before? And I know for a fact they wouldn't be caught dead wearing flower pants from Old Navy?

Some thoughts.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Problem with Chick Flicks.

I really, really, really enjoy a select few movies that I willingly watch over and over again. Pride and Prejudice is one of them. You see, Elizabeth's defense of her family, her sense of self respect, her ability to admit that she was wrong and to appreciate Darcy despite all his quirks, and quizzical brow-ness... it's marvelous. My husband doesn't share the sentiment, could you tell? ... and that's okay. There's rare a chick flick I enjoy near as much as I enjoy Pride and Prejudice or A Walk To Remember , and I wanted to explain why. You see, there's more than just a few problems with (many, not all) chick flicks:  (and if you have a chick flick that escapes many of these pitfalls then please oh please leave it's title in the comment section!) The heroine (or suitor) is less than honorable. I have a hard time rooting for a girl to get a gentleman when she's spending her time being scandalously loose with other men ( #thenotebook) . An...

Where's Number Three

A neighbor in her mid-thirties. A woman in her seventies. Their single commonality? They both asked me: Where's number three? I have a son, his name Charlie And then McKay, he's not quite three In my heart, both fit perfectly Yet others ask: Where's number three? Perhaps it's that I miscarried, My spouse's infidelity, The ache of infertility, A battle raging mentally, Illness on a crippling spree, Our family is complete, maybe. The reason's one or more of these, Yet you dare ask: Where's number three? In this question, running free Are judgements, jeering icily "You're not enough, Mik, can't you see? Buck up and give us number three!" I used to flounder, squirm, agree Or curl up small, cry, and plead. With time, I've seen things differently. I won't explain for number three. The questions of maternity Are just between my spouse and me And Parents, guiding Heavenly So please don't ask: Where's number three? Artwork Credit: Be...

Jane Manning James

Who:  Jane Manning James was one of the early members of the restored church of Jesus Christ . She hungered to find God's true church, and when she was a teenager she heard the missionaries teach in her Connecticut home, felt the veracity of the truths they taught, and was baptized a member of Christ's church the following Sunday. During her long life as a member of the church (her membership spanned over 70+ years), she traveled from Connecticut to Nauvoo, Illinois; from Illinois to Winter Quarters, Nebraska; and from Nebraska to Salt Lake City, Utah. She suffered many racial persecutions along her journey (including from other members of the church), endured cracked and bleeding feet along her long journeys on foot, and survived the crop failures that resulted from a cricket infestation in 1848; among many, many other trials. She married Isaac James in 1844 and raised 10 children. How I Learned About Her:  I first learned about Jane during a worldwide broadcast in ...