Deb: I had thought of blogging about this before and was prompted to do so by the Emmys the other night. The woman that won Best Supporting Actress in a drama for The Good Wife is my inspiration for this blog. Her name is Archie Panjabi and she is fabulous-looking and a fabulous actress. But that is not what I most admire about her.
I am not a woman given to jealousy very much. I am happy with who I am. Sure there are prettier women, smarter woman, nicer woman, and certainly taller women. But whatever. I am who I am and I am constantly trying to make the best of it.
Archie has something I have always wanted, but it has eluded me all my life. She is a slow-moving gal. I watch her in The Good Wife and I marvel at her slow-moving ways. She is sooooooooooooo languid. There is not an emergency on earth that could force this woman to move quicker than a snail with her sassy snail steps. She does not even move fast enough for one hair on her head to move. I watch and I marvel.
I am a fast walker, you see. I come from a long line of fast walkers. We are people on the go, people with a purpose. If I wasn’t with the fast walking, I would never ever ever get anything done. In my home I scurry around like Edith Bunker shaving off those seconds while I gather precious time for chores. Crossing a crosswalk? I break into a trot. Walking to a store from the parking lot? I am a filly with the prize in my sights.
So I envy Archie. Not just because her name is Archie––which is so nifty––but because she accomplishes so much without even breaking a sweat. Yes, I know, it’s a television show, but I would lay money on the fact that she is a slow mover in life too. Yet she gets stuff done. Tons of stuff I bet. Important stuff too. She sways and sashays, putting one careful foot in front of the other like she had all the time in the world. She probably has time between steps to say five-syllable words. And I’m sure she does. Because she can. She’s not in a rush. She has time to breathe and look around.
So I am jealous of this slow-moving gal. And not to be outdone by Archie or any other slow movers, I tried it. I would go with the flow, yes I would. Looked like an idiot. And ... I panicked. With each slow step my mind speed-dialed to the next thing on my list. Ahhhhh, I thought, that’s the key. The mind has to match the pace. Hmmmnnn. Yeah. Ain’t gonna happen.
Barbara: I haven’t yet seen Archie Punjabi on screen (yowsa, she's a babe in her pics)––but I want her name, I can tell you that much. Ain’t nobody gonna rush an Archie Punjabi.
Ohhhh, Deb. I am so with you on this one. My husband is always appealing to me, begging me! to slow down. It’s not that he’s particularly slow, he just isn’t on some imaginary marathon where whoever walks the dog fastest gets a gold medal.
But you know who I’m most jealous of? Slow talkers. How refreshing it would be to take my time with words instead of firing them off with the velocity of a depraved Chipmunk.
Deb: Slow talking .... As if.
Deb: Slow talking .... As if.
