I began to notice the extreme degree to which I live vicariously just last semester. I was at the mall, chatting with a friend whom I haven't seen since his excursion to Europe at the end of Summer. Although this individual had a rather odd trip, avoiding the most usual tourist-y places, I was eager to learn every detail about it since, I myself, have never had the opportunity to experience Europe first-hand. It was his response to my prompting him to tell me even more about his trip that he stopped and said "Are you sure you want to hear more? Most people just say "oh, what a trip!" after I mention my near-fatal car accident...". I assured him that I don't get out much, and would indeed like to hear more as later I'll probably just live vicariously through his stories.
Pretty pathetic, but true. I probably tarnished any degree of coolness I appeared to possess when I mentioned my satisfaction of vicarious living.
A second extreme and pathetic incident in which I noticed exactly how insane my satisfaction of vicarious living is getting was what prompted the idea for this post. I shall paint the picture for you:
I'm at my boyfriend's house, sitting on his bed after finishing what seemed like endless hours of studying (which in reality was probably just one or two), he is sitting at his computer desk reviewing notes. His feet are happily perched upon the edge of the bed, toes looking right at me. (Literally, I drew a happy face on his big toe earlier tonight.)
While looking at Tim's feet, I let my mind wander back to a time when Emily and I would take turns in massaging each other's feet. Emily had a special trick for me, she'd pull my toes to make them crack, (if you have never experienced this oh so delightful feeling in your toes, I encourage you to walk up to Emily's house and demand she pull your toes), anyhow, as expected, I got the urge to have my own toes pulled.
If you have never attempted to pull your own toes, trust me, it is very difficult and unsatisfying. So I proceeded to pull Tim's toes to watch him enjoy the feeling, and, since I am so easily satisfied in living my life through another person's, my urge to have my own toes pulled diminished.
Yep. Pretty sad.
By "enjoy the feeling" she means squirmed, and made faces because I was afraid it was going to hurt.
P.s. I just cracked her toes. Now she can get back to living her own life. How nice :)
I honestly think that me, you, and Sarah are the only ones who actually enjoy people pulling on our toes. Everyone else reacts like Tim, which I don't understand, it's not like we're going to pull so hard your toe is going to come off in our hands, it just feels good and we want to show you.
Also, I like that you drew a happy face on Tim's toe, now I don't feel so crazy for drawing them on mine all the time. :)
Thank you SO much for the sweet, sweet comment on my blog!! And I have to admit, the thought of someone pulling on my toes makes me cringe!
You DEFINITELY have 3 followers now! :) If you're not a member of 20SB.net, it's a great way to meet more bloggers our age and less mommy bloggers (even though we both agree that they are mutually loved.).
And I think sometimes that living vicariously through others is the only way we can pull ourselves day to day. No shame in that. Someday YOU will be the one with the adventures!
Cheers!