i can't decide whether i find it reassuring or disconcerting when i have become such an open book. there is a certain vulnerability to this, and also personal frustration that i have become so familiar as to be predictable. some things are obvious, i will always order mushrooms and garlic on my pizza, i will always yell "ooh! ooh!" when i see a greyhound bus (on the other side of the road), and point out, yet again, that it is on the other side of the road. i am a creature of habit and therefore repitition.
i don't like flowers that come wrapped in cellophane in a green sponge brick, in an ugly vase that i will never use, but would feel guilty throwing away. i will wind up in my pj's watching "bachelor season # 54", "paradise hotel" and other garbage despite professing opposite intentions. i will invite every waif and stray to a planned social event regardless of whether they will make a good fit with the rest of the group. i will over-cater, over-organize, over-gift and over-do. and i will be incredulous, every time, when my "how did you know?!" statement is said to me, before i can get the words out of my mouth. ultimately i find it comforting, that someone knows me that well. it goes back to those initial interactions where parents find their little one opening and closing a fist, smiling, or even filling their nappy for the first time worthy of such close attention. as an adult, when another grown person who has not had a hand in your genetics notices what would seem to anyone else, random nuances of my behaviour and personality, that is quite extraordinary.