Read these six things. Don’t judge me:
- I liked the movie, “Stuart Saves His Family.” I also liked “The Ladies Man,” “Night at the Roxbury,” and though I haven’t seen “It’s Pat,” I bet I’d like it too.
- On one side of its fortune cookie fortunes, the Chinese restaurant I used to go to always had printed: a Chinese character, its English pronunciation and translation, and the words “Learn Chinese.” But for several years, I kept reading both sides of the slip of paper as though they were fortunes. I thought they meant us to read “Learn Chinese.” the same way we read things like “Distant water won’t help to put out a fire close at hand.” I thought they were trying to pass off “Learn Chinese.” as though it were wise, sage advice, thereby potentially duping their unsuspecting clientele into learning the language. I always thought it was persistent, devious, and foolishly hopeful of the Chinese people to do so.
- Twice in my life, I have been scared half to death by my own hand. It happened when I was napping in a position such that one arm was behind my head. My hand was thus just barely visible in my peripheral vision, and in my groggy, half-awake state, I assumed it was someone sneaking up on me to “get” me. Of course, the more scared and excited I got, the quicker the “assailant” seemed to move his hand. Things snowballed. I became very scared. (Note: Despite the fact that I’m not a parakeet, looking at mirrors suddenly has also scared me several times.)
- For a large percentage of my life, I believed that the word “misled” was not the past tense of “to mislead,” but rather the past tense of the verb “to misle” which, in my mind, meant something like “to confuse or muddle.” I pronounced “misled” with a long “I” as in “MY-zeld.” I proceeded to use the word in mixed conversation quite frequently. “Sorry I was late, those directions sort of got me all misled.” No one ever corrected me.
- When I hear people whistling to each other on the street, as a communicative sort of thing, like making a distinct bird call sound to find each other in a crowd, when I hear that, I assume these people are communicating about me, and are trying to “get” me. When I hear the whistles, I sort of tense up, and become very aware of my surroundings, so as to be ready to fend off potential attackers. (Note: This goes along with my “Everybody Might Be a Spy” hypothesis.)
- One afternoon, I cried while watching a movie on cable. The movie, you ask? What movie brought me to tears in the middle of a normal summer day? Yes, that’s right: “Stuart Saves His Family.”
Remember: you promised not to judge. So please don’t. And please don’t “get” me.