Thursday, August 15, 2013

When you march to the beat of your own drum, you're the only one who knows where the downbeat is...

I've been feeling introspective these past few months and thinking if the present me could go back in time and talk to the 25 year old me, what would she say? There are certainly many things that could be said which the present me would think were wise and insightful. Then I realize it wouldn't really matter, because the 25 year old me wouldn't listen anyway. Some things you just have learn by living.

Joking aside, I have been doing a lot of soul searching recently, assessing my values as well as what I want out of life. I realize that I have a lot of rules, especially about food, so many in fact they can be grouped into categories. I have rules that sound satirical, but aren't; rules that are based on science and nutrition; and socio-political rules. My other rules are mostly about cleanliness and hygiene, and about man hair. What remains is just a bunch of neuroses I use to drive myself nuts.

I figure I come by these rules rightly. My mother had a lot of rules.

One of which was you can't wear shorts until it's at least 75 degrees. When you grow up near Lake Michigan it doesn't hit 75 until mid to late June (usually); but in the meantime, when it's 74, you look like a weirdo running around in your Toughskins when all of your friends are in shorts.

Another rule my mother had was the air conditioner couldn't be turned on until at least June 1st, which is usually not an issue in Wisconsin; the converse however, was the heat doesn't get turned on until at least October 1st. This can be dodgy, but that's why we have sweatshirts. I'm not sure where or how her rules originated, nor do I understand why the cooling and heating rules are date based rather than temperature based, like the shorts rule. She still follows the heat and cooling rules.

Another eccentric rule was that she would never where shorts without nylons; and these weren't the nylons that matched her skin. No, no...these were the nylons that were "mocha" colored. She was embarrassed by how white her legs were, but apparently had no qualms about wearing mocha colored nylons under shorts, because that isn't weird or anything.

My dad's rules were less complex... get up, go to work; come home, wash the car, eat, sleep, repeat. And the big one...stay off the lawn.

And now, I'd like to use this sentence to thank my parents for helping me to become the person I am today. Who knows how I would have turned out without all those crazy rules. I'd like to say a little less neurotic, but probably not.


P.S. I used to poke fun at my mom for how white her legs were, because in the summer I lived outside and was very tan. My legs are now whiter than hers and I usually don't wear shorts because I too, am embarrassed by how white my legs are.

P.P. S. I don't wear nylons under my shorts when I break down and wear them.

P.P.P.S. I don't wear shorts unless it's at least 85 degrees...I get too cold otherwise. And my rules about using the heating and cooling systems in my house are temperature based, not date based.

No comments:

Post a Comment