Monday, January 30, 2006
Don't Show All Your Cards
Secrets are not my forte.
Don't misunderstand me. If you tell me something in confidence, most likely it will remain hidden in my thoughts (albeit bouncing around wildly out of control) not to be revealed until given permission. The one whose confidence I betray most is myself.
If I am playing cards, I cannot cope with the knowledge of a great hand- or poor hand for that matter -all to myself. Hints fall out of my mouth, comments are like stray bullets. My face also tells the story. I'm going to leave the Vegas poker tables alone for now.
I don't think even once, Joseph reached a birthday or Christmas without knowing what I bought him.
Today at the gym, I was talking to the GM about payment options; she asked me why I was reticent to sign a year contract. Before tact or reason could take control, I blurted out "Because I'm a flake". Not good, Crista. Who's going to help out a flake. I just might go in my first day and yell, "Please waste your time on me!"
Lastly, a friend pointed out the frailty and transparency of my gift receiving procedure. Have I only been kidding myself? Now, this is the truth. I am always grateful for any gift that anyone gives me. I find that the thoughtfulness and sacrifice touch me far deeper than the quality of the product. That being said, I have realized that If I receive something that is not exactly what I would have chosen, I will compliment it on one particular attribute. For example, "Thank you for the bright orange Mohair sweater. Its so soft!" In actuality, "soft" does not win a sweater its way into my wardrobe. "Cute" is the ranking factor. Its just true. But the eternal optimist in me will bring these accolades to the surface.
Well, now that's great. I just showed you all my cards. Christmas should be fun.