Of course, with GP it’s all about what’s inside, as per a video snippet of a new podcast done with her husband Brad Falchuk to talk about ageing.
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Gwyneth is shown looking like she’s been asked to solve the Fibonacci sequence. Not so. “I’m ready to start to allow the space to exist within which I can contemplate what the next chapter is,” she tells Falchuk, whom to his credit doesn’t appear for even a second like he’d prefer to be off brushing his hair. I’ve puzzled over her words a dozen times and reckon she’s saying, “Not sure what’s next”.
So, question: do you prefer open bragging or humble bragging? Would it be better for everyone if we all laid out our strengths without shame, or is the circuitous route better, so nobody can be accused of being up themselves?
One of my sons is a skilled practitioner of the proper brag although like Robbie, it’s impossible to tell if he’s sending himself up. “They call me The Leopard,” he’d say as a kid before tackling the Thousand Steps. My thing is telling people my Tetris high score is over 300,000 and I’m great at folding fitted sheets.
Maybe there’s a third option. Not bragging at all. I remember Western Bulldogs’ star Lachie Hunter as a tiny junior celebrating his first ever AFL goal with a raised finger. His parents told him to cut it out. “No showboating in our family,” said mum Colleen.
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My neighbour Lisa asked me to spot her while she reverse-parked her new camper trailer into her small garage for the first time a couple of weeks ago. She fanged it straight in like a Holden precision driving team veteran. Lisa shrugged: “Fluke.”
Last month my daughter ran her first half-marathon in one hour 37 minutes with six weeks’ training. Not a single social post about it.
Look, I just humble bragged about my kid.
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