Friday, May 20, 2011

Come. On.

                I don’t consider myself a particularly friendly person.  I try to avoid people for the most part because I suck as making small talk.  It is torturous when I see people trying to think of something to say to me in awkward situations like – waiting in line for something.  Or in an elevator – which thankfully I never have to take those because I’m super scared of them. Or unfortunately walking the same route as someone else to parking lot. And most recently I've been unable to dodge some conversations that have left me wondering 'is this real life?!' 

                At work as I’m doing my best to keep my eyes open and my head down so I can get coffee and water for my oatmeal packet without speaking to any humans because well – I am no morning person:

                Man:     “You’ve got that oatmeal measurement down huh?”
                Me:        “Yes.”

               Whhhat?  It is of no concern of yours what my preferred oatmeal to water ratio is.

                Next day – same person, second cup of coffee and therefore no more oatmeal:

   Man:     “Finished your oatmeal already?”
   Me:        “Yes.”

   Now it’s certainly no concern of yours what I ate for breakfast.  But thanks.

At work, as I was leaving, wearing my North Face over my dress - so I didn’t have to carry it:

                Man:     “You look like you’re dressed for summer from the waist down.”
                Me:        “Oh. Ha. My office is chilly.”
                Man:     “Too bad we can’t see the top of that dress.”
                Me:        “Oh.”


                Leaving work a different day after I made the mistake of not wearing heels – which apparently is messing with everyone’s sense of morality or something?

                Man:     “It’s so weird not to see you in high heels.”
                Me:        “Oh. “
                Man:     “I mean I’m just so used to seeing you in heels.”
                Me:        “Ok.”
              Man:     (Who ruined my plan to park at an alternate door as to avoid continuing such thrilling conversations by also parking by that door)  Proceeds to tell me some story about a different girl that I don’t know, who almost fell down the stairs because she wears heels and something about Karma because he thinks she’s a B-word.
                Me:        (Grateful to finally be in the parking lot)  Have a good evening.

               Why is my footwear a matter of national security?! Sometimes I like to wear comfortable shoes.  Incidentally, those flats are less comfortable than my heels.  But whatev.

                So with that being said, I’m thinking I’m going to implement a high five policy.  I’m going to just high five people who say things to me that I don’t think they should be saying.  I don’t think you can leave someone hanging right?  They’ll have to high five me back.  And then the next time they want to try and think of something to say to me they’ll remember that I’m the girl who high fived them and they prob won’t know why I did that and maybe that won’t want to roll the dice on that happening again and they’ll slow they’re roll and take the hallway at a more staggered pace as to avoid having to come up with something brilliant to say to me?  Thoughts?

                Concerns.  I’m slightly OCD and high fiving people constantly would force me to have to up the hand washing count - which is already pretty high.  I can’t handle any more antibacterial gel – my hands see enough of that when I go places and touch door handles, use shopping carts, pump gas, sign credit card slips with the same pen the whole entire world uses or go to the ATM.  Pretty much after I touch things any other person else might have touched before me.  I don’t trust that people didn’t choose to wash their germy hands with body wash rather than anti-bacterial hand soap after using the restroom resulting in pomegranate scented germs being transferred to the door handles. 

 I’m thinking I’ll need to use the fist pound instead.  Less personal contact.  To be determined whether or not I’ll incorporate the explosion.  But seriously, if people feel like they need to talk to me – they do not.  And if you feel like you need to get me to ask you a question by sighing loudly to initiate the conversation – I will not.  I will, however, stop resisting the urge to congratulate you for being such an awesome conversationalist.  

Monday, May 16, 2011

Welcome to Atlanta Where the Playas Play

Boyfriend:  “Today is going to be the worst day ever!”
Me: “Because I’m leaving?”
Boyfriend: “…Yes….and because I could fall asleep standing up.”

                This year, so far, has been my biggest travel year life to date.  Four trips booked or taken, thus far, and all east of the Mississippi - as to maintain my claim to fame that I have never been west of that river.   I have no aversion to traveling west.  I just don’t know people who live there who want me to come see them.  Anyway, last Thursday I took my third trip of 2011.  Went to Atlanta, GA, to see my oldest and dearest friend.   (She’s not old.  We’ve just been friends since diapers.  And she bought me a teddy bear with a yellow ribbon around his neck for my first birthday party ever.)  Apparently that’s the equation for a life time of Michael W. Smith “Friends are Friends Forever” friendship? 

                I’ve probably flown only ten times my whole entire life.  Maybe twelve.  Doesn’t matter.  And I’ve flown to see her like four of those times.  Thankfully she’s always lived in much more desirable climates than I have – even though Niagara Falls is supposedly the honeymoon destination of the world.  Which – if you’re planning your honeymoon, I’d say maybe breeze by this location in the travel guide.  You’ll certainly be sorely disappointed.  Anyway, she wisely, went to college in West Palm Beach, FL.  And lucky for me – I visited there a few times to defrost for a week or so on spring breaks.  Now she lives in Atlanta.  And after this “Spring” we’ve had - which has been alternating rain and snow until like yesterday when we switched over to just rain, I was ready to see some sun.     

                Friday was beautiful – like gorgeous, and we sat by the pool for an hour.  This is probably the best thing that has ever happened to me.  I got some sun.  Was careful not to get burned. (High five from Mom?)  And then we went shopping.  I bought zero shoes and only dresses - still following my plan to only buy dresses and shoes for the rest of my life.  Probably won’t last long, but that’s all I want right now - so if you have a link to awesome dresses send it my way. (Facebook already told me about ModCloth – but I’m open to any and all others.)  So pretty much awesome day.  Poolside and mall sounds like a little piece of heaven.  Well until my friend’s daughter filled her diaper with something I’ve never seen come out of a tiny human before in my life.  (And I’ve changed more than two diapers.)  Kids, always good for a laugh – and an inopportune need for a new diaper.

                I think the diaper was a sign of things to come because from that point on everyone except me and the baby was SICK with capitals S-I-C and K.  Worked out well that I was there to hold the baby.  And to make magic cupcakes.  Which apparently a few ended up in the sink in another comedy of errors that involved a diaper change.  But I had a so fun time seeing my friends and meeting their baby.  And now the good TSA people of Atlanta have a picture of naked me instead of someone’s Gram.  Good of them to switch us and let her go through the metal detector and me through the x-ray picture taker machine after I had gotten in the metal detector line - on purpose.

                Also thanks to the Phillies being in town we missed out on a Ludacris and Jermaine Dupri concert at Turner Field – which I would have sang right along with them because who doesn’t want to be welcomed to Atlanta where you can “...hit streets, see gangsta’s roamin’ and parties don’t stop till eight in the mornin’ “ by Ludacris himself?  Worked out anyway because of the throwing up sickness that happened. Plus i don't like the Phillies.  And I super don't like them in their throwback jerseys.  So it was for the best that we missed it.  

See?  Stupid. And ugly.

               As far as my 2011 travels go - Atlanta wins this year.  Based on the fact that I didn't have to walk anywhere.  And it was WARM.  And I got to meet the baby. I should very much like to go back there again some time.  Now we just have to hope I don't get the plague they had.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Keeping up With the Joneses...and Maybe Even the Kardashians?

                It’s 2011.  People have smart phones.  And by people, I mean mostly everyone in the whole entire world carries a phone that does more than talk and text.  And everyone now includes my boyfriend.  As of last Saturday.  We went to Verizon and got him his iPhone.  And he thinks it’s magic.  Personally, I’m on my second BlackBerry so I think that makes me a smart phone user for like three years. The magic is long gone.  Now it’s a necessity.  And I’m your stereotypical BlackBerry user – the girl that literally gets anxiety when that little red light is flashing.  I can do nothing else until I make it stop.  Even though it’s nothing urgent.  I mean no one is going to email/text me to tell me someone died.  It’s usually just email from Shutterfly trying to get me to buy some pictures, or a book of pictures, or a mug with a picture on it.

                Anyway for a new smart phone owner I guess it looks like magic.  So far these are the magical things it does.  It has Google Maps.  It encouraged him to get a Gmail account.  It has Pandora.

                “You do realize that all the smart phones have been doing all these things for years right? And also that I’ve had a Pandora account for the better part of a decade.”

                “But look how awesome this is.”

                “Please turn off that crap before I throw your new phone into a wall”  Evil pouty face until it stops.   

What? He was playing loud, shoot em up, Gangsta, eff your  Mother music from the early 90’s – during the commercials of my fave television program Modern Family with the volume of the TV on at the same time.  So many things wrong with that scenario – beginning and ending with the fact that he was singing along with Ice Cube – who I know from Law and Order SVU.  So if the guy ended up casted on Law and Order, I’m saying his music prob wasn’t so awesome to begin with?   But that’s just me.  Boyfriend will argue otherwise.
             Also he had like three hours while I was at school to play as much gangster music as he wanted to without a single complaint from the girlfriend. 

                There is one thing I am super excited about his iPhone for though - he agreed to let me Skype with my sister and niece using his phone.  He downloaded the app last night and I am pumped.  To be determined if I’m going to be allowed to touch the phone or not.  Something about setting me up with the phone in its case that stands up.  Whatever – I’m not the one that drops their phone twice a day.  It’s probably safer with me anyway.

Story of my life. As of 5 days ago.  

               One other thing.  If anyone really does know some real magic - as in spells.  The kind that would make me look great in a bathing suit in like - seven days.  Please let me know.  It's kind of an emergency.  And I'm not looking to give up eating ice cream. Ever.  (That's why I need the magic.)