I do not like Romeo and Juliet. Sorry guys, I just don’t. Shakespeare making up words is basically the bomb, but Romeo and Juliet is not my favorite play of all time. Actually, I don’t think I have an all-time favorite play; there are some really good options to pull from. The old Greek ones are great, and then there’s new stuff like A Number and Los Vendidos and Samuel Beckett is pretty awesome. But anyway, I digress.
I do like that line from Romeo and Juliet, “A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet.” So poetical and such, but I’m not sure I buy it. I mean yeah, a thing is what it is, but it also is what it is called, and how do you separate out the two completely? I don’t think you can. A supposition that I am rather displeased with, given my aversion to labels and boxes.
Which brings me to my main point, not that it’s original or overly creative or even frustrations that I haven’t voiced before, but it’s what I’m thinking: Why do we have to have all these stupid classifications for what we are? Like anything, gender, orientation, handedness, political views; I don’t know, all those limiting ways to call people. I don’t want to be a short, right-handed, nearsighted, introverted, Mormon, white kid; I want to be Bailey. If you care, get to know me as a person and then figure out what you think. But I don’t want to have to package myself up into different categories for easy filing.
Also, in response to the many requests (cough cough Dupree) for updates on the girl I brought up a couple of posts back: Things are going good but I don’t think it’s fair to say anything specific without her permission to do so, which I know is a lame cop-out non-answer, but it is what it is.