Friday, April 6, 2012

I Think Facebook Ate Your Social Skills

"Everyone has a right to their own opinion." I've heard this phrase used as defensive strategy on forums, message boards, and Facebook posts more times than I can count. The phrase, on its own, is true. Its context, however, is questionable. If you need to say it in defense, you're probably committing social suicide. Newsflash: sometimes your opinions need to stay tucked in your head, all warm and cozy-like.  We have the right to do all sorts of things. We also have brains, which are supposed to help us choose our words wisely.

Social etiquette is about people skills. Making and (gasp) keeping friends. A lot of people in the social media age have forgotten some very basic truths about human nature. Little things, like how being a jerk is not helpful, funny, or socially beneficial to you as a human being. And how you can't unsay something, especially when you've broadcast it on the Internet. We've probably all fallen into these categories at different times, but a select few live here. I'm not scolding anyone for the occasional lapse. I've admittedly done all of these things without meaning to. But we could all brush up on our social skills from time to time.

1) Drive-By Debbie Downer: "We finally taught Janey how to pump her legs when she swings! Yea! No more pushing! Go, Janey!" Drive-By Debbie Downer's comment might be: "We don't really believe in swings. They're actually a leading cause of playground injuries, so I avoid parks with swings, for the safety of my children." Or perhaps, "You should really treasure the time you have to push Janey on the swings. Don't be in such a hurry for her to grow up! :)" Don't let the smiley face fool you. The second one almost looks like a helpful tidbit. Well, except for purposely inflicting mom-guilt and throwing a wet rag on Janey's accomplishment. Thanks so much for stopping by. After this kind of comment 42 times, Drive-By Debbie Downer has finally been delegated to a higher privacy setting.

2) Viva La Revolution Vick:  He is passionate. He is angry. He will rage against the machine daily with links and quotes and manifestos. Our beliefs make him sick. He doesn't really know what most of us actually believe or who we voted for, but he knows we need to learn to think like he does. Did I mention that none of us have even seen Viva La Revolution Vick in fifteen years? Yeah, he's the first guy we'll go to when we want an opinion on politics. After all, he's clearly established himself as a wise member of our inner circle. Just unsubscribed from Viva la Revolution Vick's feed. Spout away to your empty arena, Vick.

3) TMI Tina: Okay, it's not so much her opinions that need to be reigned in as her grossly inappropriate collection of public diary entries. TMI Tina needs to either cut her friends list by about 300, or learn how to use her privacy settings. How do you know she doesn't use her privacy settings? Because you know you wouldn't make that cut, if she were actually filtering the information. Whether it's shared pictures of a questionable growth on her back, or just an inside look at the rapid deterioration of her marriage, the one thing we know for sure is that it's none of our business. And we'll never get to a place in our relationship with TMI Tina where what she's saying would be appropriate for us to hear, because we don't trust her enough not to broadcast our business in the same way she broadcasts her own. Call your Mom, Tina. Leave the rest of us out of it.

The truth is, we are judged daily by what we do and say. It is human nature to assess a situation and act according to our assessment. That's what "judgement" is. So before you ask us not to judge you, take a moment to use a little of that judgement, yourself. You may discover that your social life, your reputation, and your family dealings will all look a little bit better. Or, at least, a heck of a lot healthier.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

The Introvert Who Won't Shut Up

Have you ever realized something about yourself that clarifies issues you've had in past relationships and situations, but WAY after the fact? Yep, that's where I am at the moment. So, excuse me for a moment while I indulge my narcissism. This could be a very dull read.

1. I am an introvert.  This may be a hard thing to believe for people who know me as loud and talkative. But introversion has less to do with personality and more with where you get your energy. I get energized with alone-time. I value small gatherings and one-on-one time with my closest friends. Crowds drain my energy, and leave me feeling spent. So I don't value numbers. At all. The smaller the better, usually. I like to get to know new people one or two at time, not en masse. And the absolute worst large group I can think of is a large group of women. Large groups of women always seem to revert back to a pack of teenagers. I don't know why. Maybe it's a combination of the estrogen and feminine pheromones in the room. I really have no idea. But, if there is any squealing involved, that would be my own private hell.

2. I am insecure.  Oh, it's not that all-encompassing, crushing insecurity of my teen years. I don't think I'm invisible anymore. I don't assume the worst if someone looks at me funny or has to cancel plans with me. I am comfortable in my own skin, and am no longer gauging my happiness by popularity with my peers. BUT. I still need to be liked. The idea of someone deciding they just don't like me drives me insane. I do care what other people think of me. In fact, I think that most people who claim not to care are lying. But then again, I may just be projecting. It's unfathomable for me not to care, so I can't wrap my brain around someone honestly not caring if they are liked. (And yet, my own husband doesn't care about being liked. So I've already proven that it's probably just projection.)

3. I don't exactly know who my "type" is when it comes to good friends. I really enjoy my friends. I know that I gel better with some people than others, but it's hard to figure out what the through-line is. Every time I think I find a pattern, someone new comes into my life who doesn't fit my preconceived notions, but who I totally enjoy. I think what I like in friends is a mixture of common interests and dissimilar personalities. Most of my closest friends enjoy a lot of the same things I do, but aren't actually a lot like me. (And yet, even as I say this, I can think of a couple good friends who are VERY much like me. So, you see, I have no idea.) Okay, the one thing all of my closest friends have in common is intelligence. Not an airhead in the bunch. There. A through-line.

So, to close: I am a loud and talkative introvert who is somewhat insecure, but still likes herself, and who can't figure out why she likes who she likes, but knows she likes them just the same. Well, that clears things up.

Friday, January 27, 2012

You're So Vain; You Probably Think This Post is About You

It was the song "Sexy and I Know It" playing in the background as I did lunges that prompted this post. If, perhaps, you have more sophisticated music tastes than I do, you might not be familiar with it. Get familiar. It is the best workout song ever. I know this because it says "I work out" right in the lyrics.

As you know, working out releases all those yummy endorphins. But, before it can do that, you have to be motivated to work out in the first place. Motivation has always been my struggle. In many things. (You may notice that I still haven't finished writing my novel.) And, to top it all off, I have a natural aversion to one of the other bi-products of those endorphins - smugness. Oh, for the love of all that is good and holy, if you're smug about your fitness, you make me cringe at a molecular level. It makes you ugly. And let's be honest; none of us work out with ugliness as a goal.

So, I need stupid songs written by juvenile-minded dudes to motivate me to join the ranks of the fit and smug. Appeal to my vanity. Do it. It's the only thing that works. So far, I've been doing pretty well. A different part of me is sore at the end of almost every day, so I must be doing something right. And I have a tape measure now, instead of just a scale. So I can work with that whole muscle-weighs-more-than-fat statement without secretly worrying that it might just be something people say to make themselves feel better. The fact that the measurements are going in one direction while the scale has actually inched up a tad in the other is my happy proof of that.

It is vanity that motivates me. Vanity. Not health. Not strength. Not the endorphin high. Don't get me wrong; I dig those benefits. I like feeling energetic instead of sluggish. I like the bad-ass feeling of being stronger than I used to be. But if all I got from working out were those things, without a change to my appearance, I wouldn't do it. Hell no. And, to be honest, I think most people who claim they do it for those reasons above vanity are lying. Yep. Calling you fools out. If working out made you energetic and strong and healthy but still left you looking flabby, 90% of you would ditch your workout plans before you finished reading this sentence. You can tell me I'm wrong; but I won't believe you. The majority of the exceptions would be people who made a living from being strong/athletic/agile. If you're a special ops dude, function may truly trump form. Same for a professional athlete. But spare me the smug diatribe on function over form. Even in the slim chance that you're being honest with yourself, it's going to go way over my head. I can't relate. Don't waste your breath. You have better things to do, like work out and practice your moderately-amused smug expression in the mirror.



Monday, January 2, 2012

Resolutions, Moderation and Why a "Healthy Obsession" is an Oxymoron

Like many of you, I've been thinking about 2012. I quit doing resolutions several years ago, because they're usually a recipe for self-loathing. I'd either set my goals so high, I might as well be aiming for perfection, or I'd set them really low and still not attain them, making me feel, well, LAME. This year, I'm making resolutions again. But, before I focus wholly on self-improvement, I want to remind myself of what I did right in 2011. Because, despite having some goals for growth, I'm actually pretty happy with who I already am.

My family in 2011. I'm pretty satisfied with all of us.

Before I go any further, I need to explain one of my philosophies. When I tell you about cutting back on certain things or increasing certain things, you may be of the opinion that I should just get rid of something completely or embrace something more fully. I'll disagree with that assertion 9 times out of 10. Here's why: I think the "all-or-nothing" mentality about most things can be unhealthy, unless you're fighting an addiction and the "all" in that "all or nothing" mentality was what got you there in the first place. There are exceptions, of course. Some things are 100% bad and should be treated accordingly. Not everything in life is relative. But most problems don't come from exposure; they come from a lack of moderation. So no, I'm not throwing my TV in a dumpster or banishing all sugar from my kids' diets. I can make responsible decisions without creating unnecessary "black or white" lifestyle choices. You'll see this theme a lot with me. Gray areas exist. And that's okay.

1. TV watching way down. Book reading way up. I cut the amount of TV I watch by about 75% and increased my reading by about 50%. My brain is thanking me. I highly recommend dumping a show or two and using that time to read, among other things. It makes us better thinkers. And better thinkers tend to do a lot of other things better, too. (But again, moderation, people. Watching a TV show doesn't make you dumb. Reading 24/7 doesn't make you wise; it makes you incapable accomplishing anything else. You get what I'm saying.)

2. Lost my baby weight. And my marriage weight. And my post-pregnancy... er... skin. Right now, I weigh about 10 pounds less than I did at my wedding. I'm no food-hater. I'm not a gym rat. But slow and steady wins the race, as they say, and I dropped a slow and steady 40 lbs over a year's time with (wait for it) moderate diet changes and exercise. After (and only after) I lost that weight, I got to lose the had-my-babies-in-my-30s-with-the-worst-skin-elasticity-genes-on-the-planet excess skin as well. Yep, I got a tummy tuck. I had my post-baby body surgically altered to resemble my this-skin-has-never-been-stretched-beyond-recognition pre-baby body. Feel free to judge me and tell me which exercises I could have done to accomplish the same results or blast me for not being proud of my battle scars. I'll gladly defend my choice in private. If you know me well enough to know how to reach me directly, you're allowed to share your opinion with me. If you don't, please spare me the unsolicited sour grapes.   
 
Don't worry; I still kept a couple souvenirs from my empowering pregnancy experiences.
3. I manage my household pretty well without having morose, neglected children. I've heard rumors (mainly from pinners on Pinterest, heh) that a clean house* and happy children are independent of each other. I agree that no house can stay photo-shoot ready if it houses happy children. Small children make messes and inflict chaos upon a household. BUT, if I used them as an excuse to have my home resemble an episode of hoarders, my happy kids would probably have MRSA. We're far from perfect. But grown-ups live in this house, too, so we try to find some balance. And my kids like pretending to be grown-ups. I'm kind of proud of how I've harnessed the energy and grown-up aspirations of my kiddos to get them doing a little housework. Chores help with long term work-ethic. I mean, hey, that's not just good for my kids; it's good for society. You see? I'm basically a civil servant here! (*truth in advertising: We do have housekeepers who come twice a month. I pay for them with money I earn from home as a freelance writer and copy editor. I'm not under the illusion that my house would be quite as clean if I didn't have help. But I'm pretty sure I still spend more time cleaning than your average American - even if that's setting the bar pretty low. There's a daily routine in place. There are kid naps. There's playtime with mommy and without mommy. There's time to play, teach, clean, read, exercise and play some more. There are 24 hours in a day.  Heck, I cleaned my floors, vacuumed, did dishes, and picked up my son's room before I went anywhere near this computer today. But yes, I'm thrilled that someone else will be scrubbing my toilets on Thursday. Who wouldn't be? And I've been using the "there aren't enough hours in the day" excuse not to prioritize things my whole life. So I'm preaching at myself here. I'm reminding myself of the ol' saying: "If you want something to get done, give it to busy man." Too true. The more time I have, the less I get done.)

Okay, enough self-righteous braggadocios obnoxious mom-of-the-year shiznit. (Would that have been a better title for this? Hm.) You get the idea. I'm kind of proud of my 2011 accomplishments. So I'm now ready to tackle my 2012 resolutions without bashing my "before picture". Get my drift? My resolutions are pretty simple:

1. Improve my spiritual life. The results may be subjective, but if the fruit is an indication of the health of the tree, I hope you'll all see me bearing more and better fruit. It will include adding more to my reading that tackles spiritual matters, including another full read of the Bible. I've decided it's awfully hard to claim to love or even to claim to understand someone if you aren't spending any time trying to learn about their worldview. Even if that someone is the one who built you, one atom at a time. It will also include being more proactive in my prayer life, because what kind of relationship can I claim to have with anyone I rarely talk to? So, yeah. Improve my spiritual life.

2. Improve my fitness. I may have the right measurements these days thanks to 2011, but my cardio and strength could use some improvements. Gonna exercise more. I'll never be a gym rat, but I certainly understand the benefits of a healthy body, and I definitely have a few purely vain goals for improvement as well.

3. Increase my creative endeavors. As I've stated in my bio from day one, I'm a lot better at working on the writing that I get paid for than I am the stuff that could, maybe, or maybe not, pay me down the road if it's ever good enough. Yeah, I need to write more. I need to finish the stuff I've started. Even if I never make another dime in the true creative arena, I should be creating something. Because I currently have some talents buried out in a field. And some of the reading mentioned in my first resolution has convinced me of the wrongness of buried talents. ;)

This blog post was too long. Sorry.  I resolve to take your feelings into account and keep them shorter for the rest of the year. Maybe. Happy New Year!

Friday, October 21, 2011

I'm a Prideful, Self-Righteous Jerk


You are currently being judged by the cupcake princess.
 I don't know about you, but I get really annoyed when I feel like someone is being self-righteous. I cringe when people can't let others have an opinion different than theirs without getting defensive or smug. I roll my eyes when people talk about choices they make that they deem superior to the choices I've made. You know what I mean, right? Sure.

But, um, I totally do it too. That stuff I mentioned in the last paragraph? Yeah, totally guilty. I have a self-righteous streak. I get a little defensive when I feel like someone has a different opinion than I do. (And, I probably call them self-righteous for disagreeing with me.) Sometimes my responses are smug and full of "righteous" indignation. And I totally judge other parents sometimes when they make choices for their kids that don't seem wise. (Or, I judge them for being paranoid and obsessive -and yes, self-righteous -when they make choices that are technically "better" than mine.)

The truth is, I think most of us are prideful, self-righteous jerks at least part of time. We may never tell a soul what we're thinking. Or, we may be the type to talk about it. A lot. But I doubt any of us are exempt. And really, if you're reading this and patting yourself on the back because you never do, say or think these things, welcome to the group. That was self-righteous, too.

We've all heard of the notion that we're quicker to see (and judge) weaknesses in others that we have ourselves. Totally true. But, I'll expand on that in the name of self-righteous jerks everywhere: We're even more likely to judge a weakness in someone if it's one we're prone to, but have mastered (or at least feel like we've mastered at the time). Especially because we think maybe we can change their ways if we shame them into wanting to change. Sound familiar? No? Sure, okay.

So, how do you handle it when the smugness starts to get the better of you? These are the tools I use: (I'll probably silently mock you if you don't use them, too.)

1. Self-deprecating* humor. There's nothing more useful to diffuse take-yourself-way-too-seriously disease like learning to make fun of yourself. Try it. You'll like it. (*Note: self-deprecating humor is different than self-hatred. If this method causes a spiral into depression and self-loathing, discontinue use immediately.)

2. The ol' put yourself in their shoes trick. Seriously. Sometimes we get a little too comfortable seeing the world from our own point of view. Ask yourself what about their life is different than yours. (Stuff that's out of their control, please... otherwise you're missing the point.) You may find that the reason they can't be like you is because (gasp) their life/children/resources, etc. are different than yours. It's true. That effects stuff.

3. Mirror, mirror on the wall... If neither of those seem to work, I have your trump card. Look in the mirror. Hopefully you'll see a couple things. First, that the smug look on your face is ugly as hell. Second, that maybe you have a few (minor, tiny, almost invisible, but still...) flaws of your own. Recognizing the stuff you've yet to master should soften up that view considerably.

If after trying all three of my tools for killing the evil smug beast, you're still pretty sure you're a little better than most people, I give up. There's no help for you. You're a prideful, self-righteous jerk. I'll be the one who mastered that weakness, watching you with a smug look on my face.  

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Oh, the Drama! Getting "Unfriended" on Facebook.


Are you one of those people that gets offended if you find out someone dropped you from their Facebook friends list? Yeah, get over it.

Yesterday, I took a long hard look at my list and cut about 30 people. (The very phrase "cut people" sounds like we're all trying out for coveted positions on competitive teams.) I'll be honest. I wanted to trim it down by more. I still might. I don't love the fact that there are so many people in my supposed social sphere, because let's face it; there AREN'T.


Completely unoffensive reasons to strip someone of Facebook Friend status:


1)  I wouldn't even recognize you on the street if we bumped into each other.
 
2)  We don't actually communicate. In any fashion. At all. 

3)  We don't even communicate much with that friend in common who was the only key to our virtual friendship in the first place. Was that trip to Vegas three years ago when we danced in the same vicinity one night really that meaningful?

Moderately uncomfortable (but still not offensive unless you're deeply insecure) reasons to strip someone of Facebook Friend status:

1)  Inappropriate comments and/or status updates. I realize this is subjective, but if I sense a creepiness factor, even if it's just because I don't know you well enough to realize you were being sarcastic and/or ironic, you should not be offended if you get cut. (See, "I just don't know you well enough" above and get over it.)

2)  Politics/Religion/Etc. No, no, no. I absolutely do not trim my list based on political or religious affiliations. I'm a big fan of balance. Of intelligent debate. Of putting the shoe on the other foot. BUT. If we aren't very close, and the only reason we ever communicate on Facebook is to counter each others' points in political or religious discussions, I will tire of you. At that point, we aren't FB Friends, we're FB Foes. You should not be offended. (See, "we aren't very close" above, and get over it.)

3)  Parenting Shiz-Nit. Yes, if you overstep boundaries to comment on how I raise my kids, you'll probably get unfriended. If we're actually friends, we already talk about these things privately and have no reason to discuss them on Facebook. If we're not really good friends, your opinion on that matter doesn't carry much weight with me. But the fact that you'd cross that line unsolicited anyway is just rude, so I'd cut you on principle. You should not be offended. (See, "we're not really good friends" above, and get over it.)

Totally, straight-up, offensive (but still better in the long run) reasons to strip someone of Facebook Friends status:

1)  Dude. I just really don't like you. You annoy the living snot out of me and I have to escape. I'm sorry that you think I like you. I really don't. It's okay. You can be offended. I would be, too.

2)  I only friended you because I thought you were hot at some point. Lately, you've gotten decisively less hot. You should probably be offended, but at least you're no longer being used for your looks. (By me, at least. I can't speak for everyone else.)

3)  You're a stalker. No seriously. You need to get help. Getting 81 notifications in an hour is not healthy. It's really frickin' disturbing. I'm willing to offend you if it means you'll seek psychological care. Or at at the very least, stalk someone else. Someone not related to me. Or close to me. In any way.

If none of these things apply to you, congratulations! You've maintained your coveted position as Shannon's Facebook Friend. For now. Lucky you. If you don't think any of these apply to you, but you've still been cut, read it again. You're in there. I promise.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

What's on Your Mind?

I like Facebook because I'm a social animal. But, dang it, I wish there was a little less "share this link" going on. I love an interesting article or a funny story with the best of them. I like fun blog posts. (Like this one? Sure! Like this one!) But if your Facebook wall is just a collection of links and videos, you're not a person; you're a portal.

Maybe a qualification question would help. "What is your motive for sharing this link?" If you check the box for, "to make money", or "to help people learn about being more like me and less like them",  or "because I have nothing to say, but I want to remind people I'm alive," you'll be redirected to an article on link-share etiquette.

We're all guilty of it from time to time. I'm not addressing your one-offs. I'm talking serial link-sharers. If you share every article from your favorite news source on a regular basis, you may want to consider that there's a reason the other people in the world have not subscribed to it. They may not be as engrossed by it as you are. And that's okay! Did you know they don't have to like all the same things you do? It's true.

Oh, and mommy links are the worst. We moms are notorious for making ourselves feel better about our bad decisions by highlighting our good ones. It's mommy-guilt 101. Or, we make our own decision on a controversial topic or parenting style and then feel to need to justify that decision to all of our friends with helpful, one-sided, "educational" links. Maybe it's just a defense mechanism. The best defense is a good offense? I'm not sure. But let me just get this out now: I don't care if you did or did not circumcise your son. None of my flippin' business. I don't care whether or not you vaccinate your kids. I don't care what parenting style you have adopted as the one and only best way to parent. Okay, I DO care if we're close friends and you want to discuss it one-on-one. I DON'T care if you're preaching your choices to everyone you ever knew on Facebook with a "helpful link".

I'm not a fan of how the links go flying during election seasons either. Share "what's on your mind" all you want. Just, for goodness sake, let it be what's actually on your mind, not the mind of the random author of an article you found on Google while you were doing your "only show me what I want to see" research. Pundits can be helpful in wording things the way we wish we could word them. But how about you just quote your source instead of assuming I want to read 3 pages on why you're right and I'm wrong?

So, that's my take on it. I guess I've just shot myself in the foot if I was hoping you'd share this link with your friends, eh? ;)

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

I Want to be a Dancer!

Tonight is my son's spring show and preschool graduation. He's not pulling a Doogie Howser and finishing preschool two years early or anything. Just graduating from the 2yo class to the 3yo class. But regardless, there's a show. A show where they sing and...well, sort of dance.

Wyatt has been talking about the show nonstop. He has shown me his beloved stage (in the sanctuary of the church where his preschool is located) on multiple occasions. His teachers told me he learned the songs faster than the other kids and that he sings at full volume when everyone else kind of mumbles along in typical preschool fashion. It has occurred to me that when I tell him he's a rock star for using the potty in the proper way that he may actually believe that he is, in fact, a ROCK STAR. Or, you know, a cast member of Glee.

Part of me is thrilled. After all, I was a complete ham as a kid. I was the obnoxious child in the chorus who'd purposely mess up choreography because I knew everyone would look at me whether they wanted to or not. ATTENTION, PLEASE! Look at ME! I starred in my first school musical when I was in the 4th grade. I liked the spotlight. A LOT. So, naturally, seeing a little of me in him warms my heart.

On the other hand, I'll admit to the cliched sit-com theme. We're a red blooded American family. My husband played football. There's a certain assumption that Wyatt will be a jock. I know it's a stereotypical dilemma, but it's ours nonetheless. What if our son doesn't want to be just like his dad? What if he wants to be an actor? Or (gasp) a writer? (A blogger? Oh, heavens, no!) What if he gets his dad's broad shoulders and my family's height, and then he uses them on the stage instead of in the NFL?

Or worse; what if he goes into SALES? 

Monday, May 2, 2011

Amazon isn't Paying Me, I Swear.

I remember rolling my eyes when a friend of mine started talking about how much he loved his Kindle. As a die hard bibliophile, I found the idea of digitizing literature a little obnoxious. But sometimes I'm a slow adapter. I had the same reaction to MP3 players. I like the smell of books. The paper. The glue of the binding. I like the weight of a book in my hand. I honestly couldn't imagine enjoying a good book any other way.

Last Christmas, I finally decided to give the Kindle a try. Why? I actually have no idea. I was out of ideas for what I wanted for Christmas. I was pretty sure no one was going to foot the bill for an Audi Q7, so went with an easy book reader's request. I half expected to shelf the thing. (After all, I've certainly shelved a few books I thought I wanted to read in my day, right?)

But here's the thing. I immediately started reading more. There's something about getting books immediately for less. There's something about even the biggest books being lightweight. Packing multiple books into one place without having to haul around a library. Yes, I started reading more. Not just a little more. A lot more. About four times more.

So, am I more of a bibliophile for having 500 books in my library, or for actually reading them all on my Kindle?

Saturday, April 30, 2011

The Great Blog Revamp of 2011

One of the least interesting things to read in the world is the inner workings of a writer's head. I was all set to explain, in depth, why I'm changing up my blog and starting fresh. Why I've decided that I want to be an actual blogger, not a housewife with a web page that gets updated every few months. (Did I really just refer to myself as a housewife?) That when it takes six months to get to your next blog post, something has to give. But as I started typing all about my thoughts on the subject, I put myself to sleep. Literally. Okay, not literally. (Don't you hate it when people use that word wrong?) But I was too bored to finish writing. And so, here you have it: the general idea. I've gone back to the original name. I'll be posting again shortly. It might even be about something interesting... or something that offends you... or something you totally agree with. (With which you agree... yes, I know. I know.) You get it. 'Nuff said.