It's most apparent in two things in my life:
1) Blogging. I hate it when someone's looking over my shoulder asking "So whatcha writing about?" GO AWAY.
2) The dreaded cutting table at the fabric store.
I have always hated buying fabric and having the clerk ask, "So what are you making?" Uhm... a jedi costume? A cylon zipper pouch? Gay pride flags? Yeah there's a theme here... NOTHING I WANT TO TELL YOU ABOUT!
And this past weekend it all became even more apparent! I'm at the cutting table and there's this older woman and a college kid buying a bunch of fleece. The clerk asks what they're working on. The lady says, "My son and his friend are sort of... doing a party."
The college kid says, "Yeah it's a ONESIE party! It's gonna be awesome, we're even gonna totally hit the bars in these things afterwards. My friend is gonna be a honey badger. And onesies for adults were like $60, so mom said she'd make us some."
Let me say that this whole conversation was beautiful to me. I mean that honey badger video on youtube is hysterical, and I love theme parties, and I love that this college boy can work together with his AWESOME mom on his party aspirations. I turned and was like, "So onesie parties will be like the next toga parties? I love it, I think you'll start a trend."
Then what happens? As soon as they leave and it's my turn at the table, the store employees are like, "Can you imagine wearing a fleece onesie your mom made you out to the bar? Just... wow."
SEE? SEE? This is why I don't tell the cutting people what I'm making with the fabric, because I knew, somehow, that they would judge the crap out of my inspired creative idea no matter what it is! Assholes!