I Think I’m Paranoid, Part 2

It’s funny how there are times when I hope to God that people can’t read my mind, like when I’m thinking judgmental things about them, and there are others where it’s as if I’m attempting paranormal activity with those around me. I so badly want them to know what I’m thinking.

Like when I’m at dinner with my parents and my boyfriend. I absolutely love my boyfriend, but he has a tendency to let crazy, ridiculous things come out of his mouth. When it’s just the two of us, I’m 100 percent fine with him telling me a story about another one of his friends who has been arrested or has had their license revoked by the state. Or stories about things he and his friends used to do when they were much less intelligent and much less concerned about criminal records (well, I guess it’s obvious some of his friends are still not concerned about criminal records). Anyway, I enjoy these stories because a) I’m even more convinced that I got the awesome one of the group and b) I know he isn’t anything like those things and c) I’m not entirely sure how accurate the stories are, based on my boyfriend’s affection toward exaggeration and lack of both short- and long-term memory.

So it’s fine when he shares these stories with me. However, another thing my boyfriend lacks is an audience filter. He is incapable of understanding what stories should be told to which audiences and when. So as soon as he begins a story that I know ends with the police, handcuffs and upcoming court dates, I focus all of my energy on making it possible for my boyfriend to read my mind, which is shouting, “NO! Do not tell my parents this story! Please, stop now!” And either it doesn’t work, or he’s just gone against his better judgment and decided not to listen to me. Both are equally plausible. There have been stories about breaking in to an abandoned amusement park and riding some of the rides. There have been stories about several of his friends who have been repeat offenders when it comes to alcohol and things you shouldn’t do after consuming alcohol. My favorite stories — and by favorite, I mean ones that make me cringe and bury my head in my hands — are the stories about parties he’s thrown or his friends have thrown when clearly they were not 21 and their parents were out of town.

Why would you tell this story? And of all the people to tell it to, my parents? Obviously you are not listening to my mind messages! Or your own voice of reason. But I love him.

Other times I don’t necessarily want someone to be able to read my mind, but I’d like them to get hints from what I’m thinking. Like:

“It’s true, that dress does make you look fat.”

“I would really like to go home now — my show starts in seven minutes. I have hardly been listening to you because all I can think about is how excited I am that my show is new tonight — I mean it’s practically been a month since a new episode aired. The guy character is frickin’ hilarious — and adorable! Did you see the shirt he was wearing last week? I’d like to find it for my boyfriend. Of course I bet it’s super expensive, but if that show aired a month ago, it was probably filmed several months ago, so the shirt is probably on clearance by now. Maybe even one of those 30-percent-off-on-top-of-already-reduced-prices clearance. Oh, you’re still talking? How is that possible?”

“Those fries look delicious and I would love it if you offered me one or 15.”

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2 thoughts on “I Think I’m Paranoid, Part 2

  1. …now I want fries and I want ’em bad.

    I guess if I focus my burgeoning Parkman powers hard enough someone will eventually run out and get me some?!

  2. haha, fries do sound really good. i’m trying to save money, but maybe i’ll make an exception today…

    i’ve tried channeling Parkman and it hasn’t worked for me yet. let me know if you figure it out.

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