The obscure we see eventually. The completely obvious, it seems, takes longer. ~ Edward R. MurrowHi. My name is Jen and I'm a ruminator. I have a feeling there are many ruminators out there just like me. And that gives me pause... to ruminate just a little more.
There are times in one's life when something big, life-changing, all-encompassing can take over your mind. Be it beyond sad/tremendously heartbreaking, or wonderful, kick-ass, perhaps spiritually enlightening... sometimes there is a reason why there's just no extra space in your head to entertain many other thoughts. And other times? Well. Other times (meaning most days of our lives, provided we do not live in a war zone, do not have a life-threatening illness/know someone who does, and/or are not Snooki from "Jersey Shore"), there is the relatively normal everyday.
I have a very busy life (Disclaimer: in my mind) and yet I still have a lot of time to think about very odd, disconnected things. Be it drive time, the moment right before sleep comes, the three minutes it now takes me to take a shower, the now-and-again I have to myself that doesn't involve refereeing fights over sippy cups... the time it's taking me to write this post... my thoughts are mismatched and sporadic. They're silly and serious. And, just like everybody else, they make me human. (Hmm... Though I will argue with the best of 'em that my neurotic dog Stella thinks long and hard about how to please Ang as much as possible, how to trip me on a regular basis, and how, exactly, to finagle a bagel from the dining room table.) OK. At the very, very least, thoughts make us the unique individuals that we are.
Por ejemple, following are 15 ruminations of mine from today. (Please remember: I am not a rocket scientist. Nor am I a Nobel laureate, philosopher, doctor, therapist... breakdancer, basket weaver, bungee jumper, Philistine monk or Walmart employee. OK. I think that covers all of the people you may have thought I was. Unless you were thinking something along the lines of diving instructor which, while I get where your mind is going, that's neither here nor there. Let's move on.):
- Does Starbucks only hire off-puttingly pleasant, consistently rushed, and relatively attractive personnel? Who interviews these people? Is it a corporate standard to require that each employee appear well-polished, yet with an ill-fitting dark green baseball hat and slight hint of caffeine-as-crack issue?
- [Watching The Roots play "Lovely, Love My Family" on tv this a.m.] My mom's best friend from growing up's son (nice grammar, Jen) is a member of The Roots... I wonder if my mom had anything to do with this. Meaning, if she hadn't, say, had a specific conversation with her friend Linney at the age of ten, who then had a conversation with someone else, that led to a different turn of events... would Linney's son now be a member of this awesome group? Hm. I personally believe that we're all here for a reason, so in my mind, my mom couldn't have changed the fact that he exists, but... if Anne and Linney decided to take up, say, javelin in high school versus cheerleading and art, would Owen Biddle now be a track star instead of a bass player for The Roots? If my mom and her BFF had decided to trek to South America directly following high school graduation to work for the Peace Corps, would Owen now be playing bass at a dive bar in Brazil? Would he be younger/older? Would Yo Gabba Gabba and Jimmy Fallon have shittier music?
- Do playgrounds give every parent as much agita as they give me?
- Do I use the term agita incorrectly?
- Flip-flops from Walgreens for $1.99 are just as cool as Havianas, dammitt.
- I am embarassed to not know one single thing about coal mining.
- I feel bad for Sandra Bullock.
- I like wrinkles equally as much as I don't like them. And I know that may change in the future... But, for now, I'm happy with my 50/50 thoughts on the matter.
- Forrest Whitaker looks odd being skinny.
- Why is it that only the very fashionable people can successfully wear silver and gold together?
- The heartache that goes into thinking about how I would feel if anything bad ever happened to my babies is unfathomable. No. What's unfathomable is anything bad happening to them. And I need to do something about it. Something for the parents that this has happened to. I hate thinking about this, but I need to. I am a lucky spoiled brat. I have to see what I can do. Not tomorrow. Today.
- Should I still be embarassed about the time I fell off of the exam table years ago? Right before my gyno annual? To be spread eagle on the floor, after having reached for a magazine on the wall shelf and... failing, only to have the doctor and nurse open the door and look down upon a naked, flailing mess... Is this something one gets over as easily as I have? Have I? Really? If I'm mentioning it here?
- Will anyone who reads this realize why I called this post "Moooooo..." ? I mean, cows ruminate... Right? Am I off on this? Did I just hear a pin drop? Onto a bunch of crickets?
- Should my ongoing project be a novel or a screenplay?
- And, oh so much more importantly than all of this... which ones should I get with my J.Crew gift card?:
No matter where you go or what you do, you live your entire life within the confines of your head. ~ Terry Josephson