...except for me and my monkey! "Everything we see hides another thing. We always want to see what is hidden by what we see." -Rene Magritte

Sunday, April 24, 2005

Guess what?

One thing you should know about me, if you haven't figured it out by now, is that I fucking hate guessing games. You can take that two ways: first, I hate the whole "Guess what my intentions are?" game that some people play, Paul, so please, just be straightforward with me. I'm too insecure to assume I know what you mean when you speak or act ambiguously, which means that my friends are subjected to weeks, or, sometimes, months of tortured Messenger conversations and phone calls. We could all do with a little (or a lot) less drama.

Second, I hate those "Guess who?" games people play when they come up behind you and cover your eyes. Hate! For one thing, I don't like people's grubby fingers smudging up my glasses. For another thing, I feel like a horrible person if I can't place their voice. For another thing, I hate being snuck up. So don't do it. I also hate being made to guess something someone else knows. Tell me what you know, and I promise I'll act impressed. But don't make me guess it.

Some necessary caveats:

I realize that I do use this speech construction a fair amount in my everyday conversations. "Oh, guess who I talked to today at lunch." "Guess what we learned in class today." "Guess what I'm doing Monday evening." But this isn't a case of It's Only Okay When I Do It, because I don't actually expect people to guess.

Secondly, I do enjoy and will continue to enjoy the game "Guess Who?" Ain't nobody going to take that away from me!