Oh me oh my oh ... she says I wanna do right but not right now. Remember in The Little Mermaid when Ursula was singing:
You'll have your looks, your pretty face. And don't underestimate the importance of body language, ha!
Ha indeed. Body language. We use it to lure and leer, but there are some cases when it seems to use us, and from what I can tell, it can leave you as one poor unfortunate soul for sho'.
We flee when our minds are screaming for us to stay, creating more space when we'd rather be close; eyes dart, arms cross and uncross and depending on your own ticks, legs may jitter, feet will shuffle and lips will be bitten and mashed.
It's just funny to me that I'm never more aware of my body language than when I'm actually in the moment when it, uh, malfunctions. I just felt like sharing that. Once again, I'm up longer than I should be, but To Kill A Mockingbird is on and I just can't stop watching it. I caught it earlier in the middle of the movie and watched it just long enough until I was dumb enough to move away from the TV and lost my viewing privileges to game show time.
For the record, tonight's contestants on Wheel of Fortune were awful. Loud ass, overzealous weird people. Friggin' obnoxious.
Anyway, I was in the moment so to speak. Mercy me I wish there was a way sometimes to just plug my internal dialogue into a giant speaker so others could know what was going on because it'd be hilarious, but I also think it'd help to some degree. I'm not as open as I aspire to be or once believed I actually was, but lately, there's nothing more frustrating or annoying to me than getting in my own way.
They just showed the scene in To Kill A Mockingbird where Jem rolls Scout down the street in a tractor tire and she crashes into the Radley steps. I love that scene. I love every scene in this movie, but watching that one just now, I am so back in my childhood. We had the scary ol' mean person who sat on the porch all summer to heckle us, and we had that one person that we all suspected was plum crazy. I love the theories, too, like how Mrs. Dubose was carrying a pistol underneath her blanket. My cousin Reggie and I were equally imaginative (of course, I think I really had fun with it.), and the dares! Gracious. It was always a you run up on their porch and see if you make it back, or cut across their yard and see if you get shot or something. I remember thinking Aunt Frinnie had a giant trap set for us - like a huge sticky fly trap strip - right between the two giant fir trees she knew we'd use as our escape route when we tore through her yard.
And there was mean ol' Uncle Lake. Man, he would sit there with a jar full of money just taunting us. Just money, catching the sun and glintin' and gleamin' at us, making our mouths water with the though of all that candy we couldn've been buying. He'd advertise, too. Come 'ere and get some money. One of us at some early stage was dumb enough to climb those ol' rickety stone steps to try and get it. My arm still hurts from the grip he put on it. I think I can still feel it, the worst Indian burn ever. But when he was inside, we'd run up on the steps and stomp on the porch and run back down across the street to a hidin' spot just to see what he'd do.
Fun times.