I know we are all guilty of this. We sometimes base our decisions on irrational logic. Be it from a past bad experience, or just trusting our "sixth sense", we all have made choices not based on facts or reason but on some crazy line of thought.
For example, choosing a name for your baby. You might kick around a few ideas with your spouse. The conversation might go like this: "How about Britney?" "Ugh, that reminds me of Krazy Britney Spears, no way". "How about Shiela?" "uh, no. I knew a girl named Shiela once. She was a bitch". And so it goes until you narrow it down.
Or maybe you don't want to try this fabulous new drink that the restaurant is offering, because you once had a VERY bad night with tequila and she is NOT your friend and just the THOUGHT of having a small TASTE of that drink makes you throw up in your mouth a little. (This is not from personal experience - Ed.)
But those examples are understandable, if not entirely logical. When it comes to an important decision, like buying a house, or investing your money, I assume most of us use some kind of reason. Or logic. But I have a deep seeded fear that most of our voting population in the United States does not have that same logic when it comes to picking a president in the next election.
I was watching the nightly news not long ago. They were interviewing voters in the state of North Carolina. A state that is mostly pro-McCain. So the interviewer was asking random people who they would vote for. If they answered Obama, then the interviewer would ask the person what they didn't like about McCain. If they answered McCain, vice-versa.
The interviewer was talking with a man, I would say his age was roughly 40 years old. Looked like a blue collar worker of some kind, maybe a factory guy. He stated that he would vote for McCain. So the follow up question was why he didn't want to vote for Obama. The man went on to say that he had HEARD (not seen for himself) that at one rally some months ago, Obama didn't put his hand to his heart when they raised the flag and played the national anthem. In this man's mind, this proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that Obama was not patriotic and didn't love the United States like he thought a president should. Now, could he tell the interviewer when this incident occured? Nope. Could he even tell him where he had heard this information? Nada. So based on pure conjecture and rumor, this man decided how he was going to vote in the next presidential election.
I'm not sure if this allows me to shoot people like this, or if I'm going to just have to shoot myself and get it over with.
-K
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
It doesn't happen to me
Here in COG world, we had a medical wake-up call last week. My sister, my best friend, the one that will cover my ass no matter what...had a series of small strokes. The doctors say she is fine. No permanent damage; no harm no foul.
But it really hit me hard (she says, selfishly). My sister is the one to prop me up when I'm down; the one to take me out for a drink to celebrate good times (and forget bad ones). She is generous to a fault, and is the truest friend anyone can have. A hard worker, supportive of friends, and a mama bear when it comes to her family. There would be a gaping hole in my family fabric if she were not here.
My sister is a bit older than me (no need to name numbers, for both our sakes). When I was young, she was a mother figure to me. She was the one that dressed me in the latest fashions before kindergarten, she was the one that braided my hair in those funky Heidi braids that were popular in the early '70s. She was the one that taught me how to apply my makeup, she was the one that taught me how to put in a tampon, and she was the one to tell me to "brush your damn hair, it looks like a mess".
As I grew older, our relationship shifted from the mentoring kind to the kind of friendship that only sisters can have. We can confide our fears with each other; we can confess our weaknesses; we can celebrate achievements together and we can prop each other up with encouragement. I can honestly say there is no other relationship like the one I have with my sister. I love her in so many ways, I don't have enough fingers and toes to count them. So as I sit here, typing with tears on my cheeks, I just thank God that she is safe. That she is here and will continue to be here for a long time to come...
-K
But it really hit me hard (she says, selfishly). My sister is the one to prop me up when I'm down; the one to take me out for a drink to celebrate good times (and forget bad ones). She is generous to a fault, and is the truest friend anyone can have. A hard worker, supportive of friends, and a mama bear when it comes to her family. There would be a gaping hole in my family fabric if she were not here.
My sister is a bit older than me (no need to name numbers, for both our sakes). When I was young, she was a mother figure to me. She was the one that dressed me in the latest fashions before kindergarten, she was the one that braided my hair in those funky Heidi braids that were popular in the early '70s. She was the one that taught me how to apply my makeup, she was the one that taught me how to put in a tampon, and she was the one to tell me to "brush your damn hair, it looks like a mess".
As I grew older, our relationship shifted from the mentoring kind to the kind of friendship that only sisters can have. We can confide our fears with each other; we can confess our weaknesses; we can celebrate achievements together and we can prop each other up with encouragement. I can honestly say there is no other relationship like the one I have with my sister. I love her in so many ways, I don't have enough fingers and toes to count them. So as I sit here, typing with tears on my cheeks, I just thank God that she is safe. That she is here and will continue to be here for a long time to come...
-K
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