...is that you get conditioned to enjoying things vicariously. Honestly, if I can do something in my head, it's almost as good as doing it real life. Why expend the actual physical energy when the payoff from just reading about it is so satisfying?
[EXCEPTION: This does not, I repeat, not, apply to certain activities of the, um, romantic sort. If you get my drift. *cough* Some things you really have to be there for.]
My agency sistah, Tawna Fenske, recently did a hilarious post about her trip to the hardware store. It got me thinking about some of my trips to the hardware store with TG (which I fully expect will be more entertaining in the future, now that I know what kind of double-entendre packaging to look for). On our last trip to Home Depot we bought a chainsaw, with which to rid our yard of all the winter damage. (Sadly, that was one activity we could not leave in the virtual realm.)
[Stick with here. There is a connection.]
Anyway, while we were there at the Home Improvement Mecca, we also perused the kitchen and bath aisles, as is our wont to do on these impromptu "dates," drooling over fixtures and cabinets (not literally; I mean, that would be gross), debating which we might choose once we get around to actually updating our house. We do the same thing when we go to Ikea, or Lowe's, or anyplace with cabinets. It's a fun way to spend an afternoon, and since our tastes are similar, we mostly agree on style.
The only trouble is, just looking is enough to scratch the refurbishing itch. We never seem to feel a pressing need to follow through with the actual implementation of our ideas.
Well, to be fair, if TG had more free time, he would do it. But theater is a harsh and demanding mistress. (Hmm. Are you imagining black leather, stiletto heels, and whips? Yeah, me too.) And I'm a tool klutz, so I can't do it on my own. Ergo, lots of projects go on our "Later" list.
I'm the same way with other people's pets now, too. Since our last, officially-truly-ours pet died, I haven't exactly rushed out to replace him. At first it was because I was too traumatized by the loss. We'd had Clancy-cat for so long it was hard to imagine life with a subtitute. (More about Clancy here.) But if I'm honest--which I try to be at least 97.8% of the time--I've gotten pretty used to not being responsible for the care, feeding, and poop-cleaning-up of another being. We have a part-time cat who drops by daily for treats and a cuddle, and that, along with occasional visits to Cute Overload, satisfies the pet urge in both of us.*
How about you guys? Anything you'd just as soon experience vicariously? Or are you the Everything** Has To Be Real type? Do share. Inquiring minds want to know.
*For now. Though TG is lobbying heavily for an English bulldog, which, in his head, he has already named "Fugly." I've warned him not to expect a little Fugly under the Christmas tree this year, or any year before he retires and can follow Fugly around on walks himself, plastic bag in hand. Because I ain't picking up Fugly poop.
**Well, except, you know, murder and stuff like that. I'm going to assume you don't want to experience that firsthand.