About S:
I’m not sure if I’m the nicest mean person you’ll ever meet, or the meanest nice person you’ll ever meet. I like to think of myself as honest and amusing, with a biting sense of humor.
I'm not, mean though. One of my most distinct memories from I was little, is being at my grandmother's house while my older cousins watched Mommy Dearest. When the “No wire hangers!” part came on, I started crying and they had to turn it off. How could any mother be so mean to her child? I went home and cried and cried about what I’d seen. That's probably the first time my parents suspected I might be what they call, to this day, “overly sensitive.”
I have asked my parents to sponsor a sick kid at St. Jude's for my birthday, cried on Christmas because some people don't even have food, and burst into tears when I see the homeless veteran who sits in the middle of the intersection in his wheel chair on my drive home from work. When Sarah McLaughlin's ASPCA commercials come on, I have to change the channel to avoid crying for the next six years. And don't even get me started on the Pedigree commercials with the dogs in the shelter who say "We're good dogs. We just want to go home." I have tears in my eyes just thinking about it!
You get it by now. I have skipped classes, backed out of social obligations and made personal sacrifices for my friends, and I really do care about people.
Now onto the fun part: my mean streak.
I would never be outwardly mean to someone. Some may think this cowardly, or that I’m “talking shit behind peoples’ backs,” but I don’t see it that way at all. If I don’t like someone, I’m certainly not going to sing their praises, but I’m also not going to be nasty and cause unnecessary conflict when I have to deal with them. Conflict makes me cry.
This doesn’t mean I’m “fake nice.” I don’t go out of my way to be nice to people I don’t like. I just don’t go out of my way to be mean, either. I also know how manipulative I can be sometimes. If you were to talk to my old college boyfriend, he'd probably tell you he went home feeling like the worst person in the world a good 70% of the time we dated. I was great at making everything his fault when I was upset.
If I were this honest all the time, it’d be a huge problem. Sure, I tend to say what everyone is secretly thinking and not feel bad about it. But people don't always need to know. Do my friends really need to know that yes, I can in fact see their weight gain? Probably not. Does the man who just came to my office need to know his breath was so awful that I could smell it across the desk while he talked? No. But I bet there’s a good chance you'll laugh when I tell you about it.
With love,
S
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
About R:
Growing up, I always used to giggle when my mom would tell me that soon after I was born and she knew I was healthy, she kissed my forehead and said a quick little prayer directed at god—whoever he or she may be.
“Please don’t let my child be boring,” she wished.
Funny because I grew up in a house of atheists, and funnier because really, who has that as a first wish for their child?
I’d like to think she got her way, that I’m not your average girl lacking in personality, wits and a sense of humor. My thought process often diverges from the average or acceptable, sometimes my ideas are just plain weird.
It’s undeniable that I always wind up in unique situations, experiencing things that would only happen to me. OK well, maybe not JUST to me, but it certainly feels that way sometimes.
Sometimes, I’m wearing my bilingual paralegal hat and trying to explain to a client that NO, your worker’s compensation insurance will NOT pay for your Viagra. Other times, I find myself explaining to the attention-craving girl at the gym that yes, I believed you when you told me you had a gourmet chocolate-eating mouse in your apartment, but no, not when you’re insisting a little ghost girl visited you in your sleep.
I seem to have a heck of a lot of run-ins with interesting people—maybe it’s because I’m super-social, maybe because I’m willing to talk to anyone who listens, or maybe because I’m a freak magnet.
And that brings me to my next point. Being a creep, jerk and asshole enticement. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not bitter. Not really at all actually. Somehow I take this in stride and realize that my experiences dating guys who are, simply put, not right for me, translate into fabulous stories.
All things considered, I personally don’t find my life to be particularly mundane. On a day to day basis, sure. I get up, go to work, hit the gym and practically pass out as soon as I’m showered and fed after. But really, I’m a big believer in interacting with people while going through the motions of day to day life. Anywhere and everywhere. In line while ordering my Starbucks venti green tea (with one bag, a little ice, one honey and three equals) or with the homeless lady draped in corrugated cardboard whose nine to five job consists of singing a “happy new year” song even in mid-February.
I observe and I make connections with the outside world. My degree in sociology probably factored into these likings and this unquenchable thirst to see the world, its people and all everyone has to offer.
I want everyone to know what I see and hopefully entertain with the quirkiness of my everyday living.
XOXO,
R
