Day nineteen is a talent of yours.
I'm a know-it-all. This may or may not be a talent in some people's books but I like that I know a lot about nothing. I can tell you pretty much anything you want. I specialize in random pop culture facts. In fact, when I was feeling down about my mathematical and therefore engineering skills in college I changed my major to Post WW2 American Studies and was calling it majoring in Pop Culture.
My husband finds it curious as well as annoying this talent of mine. He hates when I correct him (but I can't let it go without him knowing what is right) and he doesn't understand why I care to know about celebrities, etc. Now, don't get me wrong I am not a stalker but I like to be in the know. I read gossip blogs but take it all with a grain of salt. It doesn't matter to me who is dating whom but I like to know that I know. If that makes any sense.
Anyway, it isn't just pop culture that my brain is full of... I have all sorts of useless and useful facts about a little bit of everything.
Lastly, with this talent comes the piece that I don't like being wrong... now I will admit that I am wrong but if I am uncertain about whether I know it as a fact then I won't say it. Therefore, I am rarely wrong and when I am called on it (depending on how aggressively I am called on it) I will take the time to prove myself and if I can't then I will concede... but once I do prove myself and you still try to say I am wrong I will fight you like a hell hound.
This is a little spot where I spend a few minutes musing on the stuff that is my life. I think I am pretty funny and totally fascinating so hopefully that is how you will feel too.
3 comments:
My first ever real boyfriend knew the most random facts, ever. And he would always drop them in conversation as if that's what we were talking about ... but we weren't. For example, we may be talking about our weekend plans and what we'd like to do and then he'd through out some random elephant fact. It drove me insane. I'd give him the stank eye as he'd sit there so assumed with himself that he knew this random fact about mother effin' elephants. Now that I'm thinking about that, I may need one of your knitting needles to jab myself in the eye.
And that's supposed to be THROW out*.
I would like to think I don't throw random facts in to conversation but my husband may disagree. Who knows.
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