Who’s chattier, men or women? (Also, check out the summary of the Science paper.) I think I’ve got everyone beat. Everyone I know remarks at some time or another about how quiet I am. If I thought I could get away with it, I could probably go for days without speaking with anyone (including myself). Then again, one could point out that I’ve pretty much channeled my quota for wordiness into my writing instead.
Weddings: Are You Obsessed? So it’s the summer. Lots of people are getting married. Parents of the couple, of course, are always grumbling, “We could have just given you money and you could have eloped instead.” I’d prefer practicality as well–just go to the courthouse, get your license, and there you go, you’re done. For those of you who think I’m off my rocker for saying that weddings are stupid, here is my rationale: weddings are an elaborate yet outmoded ritual centered on a simple transaction–the transfer of property. What sort of property? The bride. And even if you argue that all the patriarchal connotations have been erased from modern weddings, there’s still the waste of money involved. When you become more concerned about the details of the event rather than the fact that you’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone, you’ve lost sight of your relationship and the big picture. Then, a wedding becomes nothing but a shallow ruse to show off one’s perceived wealth, privilege, and status.
Sexy specs. Um, I don’t have guys lining up my front door. But then again, if I switched to contacts and guys started hitting on me, I wouldn’t be exactly pleased either. This would only tell me that men are shallow idiots.
The hills are alive with the sound of lyrics. It depends on the song. I prefer listening to lyric-less music (classical, soundtracks, electronic), but if there are lyrics I find that even though they can distract me from doing another word-centric task, I have to consciously force myself to pay attention.
Pack Day. Ah, Chinese mothers and their penchant for nagging their children. My mom would probably not say that stuff about the ice cream certificate (since she wouldn’t be shelling out money), but she would start lecturing me on eating my fruits and vegetables. And as for San Francisco, she wouldn’t say it’s cold since she’s lived in far colder places (like, um, Quebec in the dead of winter and the power’s out?), but she would say SO WINDY!! and drag me off to the nearest clothing store to get windbreakers.