Hypocrisies of which I am guilty
—I get all judgy about people who put their stuff on the bus seat next to them … and yet, I get on the commuter bus near the beginning of its run toward home and sit in the outside seat of two every single day. I’ve even pretended to be asleep so people won’t ask to step over me and take the seat beside me.
—I would not kill, skin, and gut an animal for any reason, ever, be it for food or sport, unless my (or another person's) life depended on it (e.g., if I or they were being attacked by a bear). I don’t want to see what goes on in a slaughterhouse or livestock operation … and yet, I eat meat, free of guilt, whenever I please. I prefer to think that it arrived in the supermarket or restaurant as is, and came from no actual animal ...
—The crossed arms and tappy foot ensue whenever all the treadmills are in use at the gym … and yet, I’m on mine for 45 minutes no matter how many people are waiting. Tip: the iPod helps with the Other-People-Ignoring.
—I feel totally superior to girls who spend a ton of time on their makeup and accessories and whatnot … and yet, I am incredibly vain about my hair and will keep people waiting to start Christmas while I finish blow-drying it with the round brush.
—I am The Original Incredi-Snob about people who read crappy books (my face, when I spot a copy of dreck like “The Five People You Meet in Heaven” or an Oprah recommend, is not pretty) … and yet, there’s me every now and again, plowing through a stupid Rona Jaffe novel like it’s goddamned Harper Lee.
—The rolling eyes and put-upon sigh are deployed when the person in front of me orders a coffee beverage that takes more than three words to describe … and yet, come holiday time, here’s me, Miss Coffee Regular, asking for a “tall double-shot nonfat peppermint mocha, no whip.” Seriously, someone should slap me with a giant candy-cane.
How ever do I live with myself?
—I would not kill, skin, and gut an animal for any reason, ever, be it for food or sport, unless my (or another person's) life depended on it (e.g., if I or they were being attacked by a bear). I don’t want to see what goes on in a slaughterhouse or livestock operation … and yet, I eat meat, free of guilt, whenever I please. I prefer to think that it arrived in the supermarket or restaurant as is, and came from no actual animal ...
—The crossed arms and tappy foot ensue whenever all the treadmills are in use at the gym … and yet, I’m on mine for 45 minutes no matter how many people are waiting. Tip: the iPod helps with the Other-People-Ignoring.
—I feel totally superior to girls who spend a ton of time on their makeup and accessories and whatnot … and yet, I am incredibly vain about my hair and will keep people waiting to start Christmas while I finish blow-drying it with the round brush.
—I am The Original Incredi-Snob about people who read crappy books (my face, when I spot a copy of dreck like “The Five People You Meet in Heaven” or an Oprah recommend, is not pretty) … and yet, there’s me every now and again, plowing through a stupid Rona Jaffe novel like it’s goddamned Harper Lee.
—The rolling eyes and put-upon sigh are deployed when the person in front of me orders a coffee beverage that takes more than three words to describe … and yet, come holiday time, here’s me, Miss Coffee Regular, asking for a “tall double-shot nonfat peppermint mocha, no whip.” Seriously, someone should slap me with a giant candy-cane.
How ever do I live with myself?
posted by Gleemonex at 4:58 PM
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