Almostgotit.com

Tennessee is a strongly Republican state, and I *know* (I’ve seen the hard numbers) that Knoxville is too. Strangely, though, every group I hang out with seems to be 100% Democrat. And how I do love them.

But I marvel at how often my friends still manage to encounter so many Republicans, while I still manage not to. A favorite theme at recent gatherings has been the extreme presumption of “those people” (Republicans) who boorishly assume my friends are also Republicans. My friends are genuinely indignant, but I can’t tell if it’s because they are offended by people who make assumptions, or offended for being mistaken for something as vile as a Republican.

The irony here is that in the twenty-something years I’ve spent mostly in the company of left-ish people, present company included, most of them have been as exactly as presumptuous about me and my own political affiliation.

I suspect, therefore, that making assumptions about people, even discriminating against people, is not so much partisan as it is a human condition.

To be fair, I do look, walk and quack very much like a Democrat. I also understand that being included in these conversations is deeply complimentary, as my pureblooded friends clearly feel such an affinity for me that they consider me one of their own race.

But it’s also a little disturbing to think that anyone’s approval of me, for any reason, also informs them that I can’t possibly bear any of the enemy’s genetic material. Sadly though, I do.

My friends’ own distress at being oppressed by Republicans is clearly not so terrible that they can’t also enjoy the conviviality of ranting about it over lunch.  Not me.  I’m much happier ranting about single issues than I am about entire groups of people.

Well.  Okay. Unless they’re from  The Institution that Shall Not be Named.  I never said it was about virtue on my part.  It’s more an irrational fear of suddenly finding myself among those being crucified.

Speaking of which.  I also enjoy a good rant about religion.  That’s very weird, I’ve just realized. Could it be that our country actually is much more religiously tolerant than it is politically tolerant? That’s a test question. I don’t know the answer. What do you think?

It was a good weekend chez Almostgotit.

The neighbors have all received my newsletter, and there have been no death threats. A few probably have concluded I’m dangerous and should be left alone (hurray) while a few others have called me on the phone to say “bravo.”

One even brought me some flowers.

Almostgotit made great strides in sorting out some things in the attic, getting rid of several piles, and finally opening the stupid box for her stupid new computer and even putting the stupid thing all together (NB friend Betsy!!)

The rest of the family, feeling a little less ambitious, nonetheless also seemed to have a pleasantly relaxing couple of days.

The New College Student, too busy lately even to trim his own toenails apparently,  came home and spent virtually all of his time like this. 

The 12-yr-old  , whose official weekend chore is to clean the bathroom, found interesting things to do with the bathroom mirror instead .

Cat #1 helped make the beds in her own way.

The dog (a purebred Rhodesian FridgeSnack, FYI) carried his blanket around all weekend, finding many comfortable places to sleep as well.

And I did tell all y’all, did I not, that the adults have a lovely new mattress for weekend sleeping, as well? 

Life, in other words, is pretty good. 

A friend of mine let me blog for a whole entire week on the subject of rejection before admitting to me that his psych lab research at Berkeley was on the topic of “rejection sensitivity.” 

There followed a rather intense exchange of emails in which I obnoxiously tried to debunk everything he said.  That’s me, an obnoxious debunker.  So no wonder, maybe, he never told me what he’d been doing for two whole years of his life?

On the bright side, he also sent me two very good jokes.  I hope he won’t mind if I pass them on:

Q. What’s Irish and stays out all night? 

A. Patio Furniture.

——-

Q. What do insomniac, dyslexic agnostics do all night? 

A. They stay awake wondering if there is a Dog.