"Be prepared." This is the Girl Scout motto. It should be "be prepared to be shut down." or "be prepared to want to quit after one year" At least these were my personal Girl Scout mottos.
When I first joined as a little 9-year-old, I was ready to go all-in. I knew of the delicious cookies and fun field trips, so I was willing to don the brown uniform, (brown was my LEAST favorite color at the time, just so you know) all for the exclusive club of fellow little girls.
I was not disappointed in the beginning. The field trips were exciting and had much better benefits than the standard school trips. The best field trip was by far our trip to a famous local bakery where we got to go behind the scenes into the kitchen. As we toured around, what do you know? We came upon a large table covered with the most beautiful, buttery danishes I'd ever seen! The head chef, our tour guide, grinned from ear to ear as he told us that we were all allowed to have half a danish. (Have I mentioned my love of free food?)
We (meaning me) squealed with glee as we all ran and grabbed a pre-cut half of a danish. I can taste it now: cherry flavored heaven. After our chomping pleasure was complete (maybe 30 seconds?) we looked to see that the chef had anticipated two or three more troops because the table was still covered with yummy-looking danishes. In just a minute of hesitation, he grinned again and told us we could all have another half.
Another half! Can we say BEST. DAY. EVER? Almost 10 years later, I still remember the fluttering in my chest. I'm pretty sure I made my joy clear to the other girls, to the mom volunteers, and especially to my beloved chef. As I finished my beloved cheese danish half, I noticed that although the table certainly had empty spots here and there, there were certainly some lonely danishes still left on the table. I looked around to see how much my fellow Girl Scouts had enjoyed our luck, and knew what I had to do.
I looked up to the nearest mom volunteer and asked, "Can we have a third piece?"
Silence. My cookie-selling peers looked at me with disgust, and the mom volunteers looked at me with pity. I apparently did not read the fine print in the Girl Scout code that says little girls NEVER ask for thirds. Sure we can sell cookies to people by the carton, but to consume more than one danish? Pure gluttony.
When I realized that it wasn't just the mom volunteers who were embarrassed for me, but the girls in the troop as well, I realized that the Girl Scouts suck. There, I've said it. I will always resent them for holding out that last half danish on me and making me feel like a pig. I can only hope that the chef was secretly thrilled that I couldn't get enough and that he is still waiting to marry me and bake me danishes every morning.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Handy Manny goes to the Movies
Remember when the movie The Matrix came out, and most people went on and on about what a great movie it was? I was never one of those people. I couldn't understand why most people liked it, or even why I didn't. After describing my situation to some people, I realized I hadn't had the best theater-going experience.
I was 16 when I saw The Matrix at the local movie theater, and it was one of the first real dates I'd ever been on. My date was a very nice boy as well as a new friend of mine who was hoping o become a combination of the two. In my attempts to play it casual and cool, as we sat down in our seats, I tried to lean my head a little closer to him. I guess I wasn't as subtle as I thought because he looked at me with this grin on his face and said, "Oh, is THAT how you want to play?"
I guess that was true because I was happy that he followed this up with putting his arm around my shoulders. Even though I thought the line was weird, this was basically what I thought was right for a date, so I went with it.
Not too long into the film, I raised my left hand up to meet his, and he held onto it. At first, I'll admit this was very exciting! This was a real date, hand-holding and all! Then he proceeded to massage my hand with his. I thought this was weird, but I could tell that he thought this was the way to my heart, which in itself seemed sweet. I will say that more than an hour's worth of rough massaging of the top of my hand is actually not the way to my heart. It's the way to a very sore hand.
I tried excusing myself to the bathroom, but when I came back he did the same thing, and I was too shy to push him away. Let me say that I knew at that point that this date was both a first and last with this handy guy.
The one thing I liked about that viewing of The Matrix? That it ended.
I was 16 when I saw The Matrix at the local movie theater, and it was one of the first real dates I'd ever been on. My date was a very nice boy as well as a new friend of mine who was hoping o become a combination of the two. In my attempts to play it casual and cool, as we sat down in our seats, I tried to lean my head a little closer to him. I guess I wasn't as subtle as I thought because he looked at me with this grin on his face and said, "Oh, is THAT how you want to play?"
I guess that was true because I was happy that he followed this up with putting his arm around my shoulders. Even though I thought the line was weird, this was basically what I thought was right for a date, so I went with it.
Not too long into the film, I raised my left hand up to meet his, and he held onto it. At first, I'll admit this was very exciting! This was a real date, hand-holding and all! Then he proceeded to massage my hand with his. I thought this was weird, but I could tell that he thought this was the way to my heart, which in itself seemed sweet. I will say that more than an hour's worth of rough massaging of the top of my hand is actually not the way to my heart. It's the way to a very sore hand.
I tried excusing myself to the bathroom, but when I came back he did the same thing, and I was too shy to push him away. Let me say that I knew at that point that this date was both a first and last with this handy guy.
The one thing I liked about that viewing of The Matrix? That it ended.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Quit Looking at Me Like That
With the freezing weather we've had lately, my car has acted up in different ways. Today, the trunk wouldn't open even though the key turned in the lock easily. Because I was in a parking lot with someone waiting for my spot, I decided to forget the trunk, throw things in the back seat, and off I went.
It wasn't until I was on the highway that I looked to see a light on the dashboard. What's that, car of mine? The trunk is now open while I'm driving? I looked back and realized that with each bump, my trunk was waving hello to the car behind me.
I was hoping I could make it all the way home without being pulled over, and purposefully drove slowly to ease the effects of a bumpy road. As I pulled gently to a stop at a red light, I looked to see that my trunk was at full mast, displaying the contents of my trunk to anyone who'd like easy access. I jumped out of my car as quickly as I could and slammed down the trunk. As I jumped back into the drivers seat and happily noticed that the light was still red, I looked over and saw that the guy in the car next to me had been watching the whole thing with this amused stare. As soon as the light turned green I flew by without a wave goodbye...of any kind.
I have to say that this whole situation does remind me of a time in Vegas. (Now, now, get your mind out of the gutter, thanks).
I was in Vegas with my dad when I was 15 for one of his conventions and I had to entertain myself each morning while my dad was in meetings. As I walked up and down the strip, I realized that I needed a bathroom, and fast! I saw the nearest hotel and speed-walked towards the door. Well, I'll be the first to admit that when a bathroom is on the brain, I really can't focus on much else. I was so determined to make it into the hotel that I didn't realize just how good a job the staff had done of cleaning what I soon discovered -the hard way- was the wall of a revolving door. (Man, that's some good window cleaner!) As I felt the growing bump on my forehead, I felt grateful that at least I had experienced my embarrassment alone.
That's when I passed a group of about 4 or 5 middle-aged men laughing and pointing at me/the revolving door.
"Did you see that girl just walk into the door? She just walked right into it!"
Luckily I found the nearest bathroom very quickly. I was hoping I could put the story behind me, but when I got back, my dad immediately noticed the bulge on my forehead. When I told him the story, I had yet another middle-aged man laughing and pointing.
I spent the rest of the week's mornings by the pool.
It wasn't until I was on the highway that I looked to see a light on the dashboard. What's that, car of mine? The trunk is now open while I'm driving? I looked back and realized that with each bump, my trunk was waving hello to the car behind me.
I was hoping I could make it all the way home without being pulled over, and purposefully drove slowly to ease the effects of a bumpy road. As I pulled gently to a stop at a red light, I looked to see that my trunk was at full mast, displaying the contents of my trunk to anyone who'd like easy access. I jumped out of my car as quickly as I could and slammed down the trunk. As I jumped back into the drivers seat and happily noticed that the light was still red, I looked over and saw that the guy in the car next to me had been watching the whole thing with this amused stare. As soon as the light turned green I flew by without a wave goodbye...of any kind.
I have to say that this whole situation does remind me of a time in Vegas. (Now, now, get your mind out of the gutter, thanks).
I was in Vegas with my dad when I was 15 for one of his conventions and I had to entertain myself each morning while my dad was in meetings. As I walked up and down the strip, I realized that I needed a bathroom, and fast! I saw the nearest hotel and speed-walked towards the door. Well, I'll be the first to admit that when a bathroom is on the brain, I really can't focus on much else. I was so determined to make it into the hotel that I didn't realize just how good a job the staff had done of cleaning what I soon discovered -the hard way- was the wall of a revolving door. (Man, that's some good window cleaner!) As I felt the growing bump on my forehead, I felt grateful that at least I had experienced my embarrassment alone.
That's when I passed a group of about 4 or 5 middle-aged men laughing and pointing at me/the revolving door.
"Did you see that girl just walk into the door? She just walked right into it!"
Luckily I found the nearest bathroom very quickly. I was hoping I could put the story behind me, but when I got back, my dad immediately noticed the bulge on my forehead. When I told him the story, I had yet another middle-aged man laughing and pointing.
I spent the rest of the week's mornings by the pool.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
An Unimportant Announcement
Last week or so, I attended a meeting for my graduate program that was intended to be half social, half informative. During the informative part, I began to fidget. (I tend to do this when I'm listening to someone and it's hard for me to control.) Anyway, in my private fidgeting, I accidentally kicked the foot of the girl sitting next to me. We both immediately whispered a "Sorry" to one another, me hoping that she wouldn't realize she had no reason to be sorry herself, when the chairman of the department looked over at us and asked if I had a question. To be fair, he wasn't asking in one of those snide ways that teachers do when they know you're not paying attention. This was the part of the meeting where he really wanted to know students' concerns. When I tried saying that it was nothing, that there was no question, he pushed forward, trying to show everyone just how concerned he is with the program. Realizing that he wasn't going to let us off the hook, I finally just admitted to the entire room,
"We bumped feet."
This was when I regretted an earlier decision for all of us to sit in a circle so that everyone was facing everyone else. Nothing makes you feel more professional than telling all of your academic peers (and some professors!) that you cannot sit still during a 30 minute meeting. Next time I might try to come up with something a little more extreme to liven things up.
"We bumped feet."
This was when I regretted an earlier decision for all of us to sit in a circle so that everyone was facing everyone else. Nothing makes you feel more professional than telling all of your academic peers (and some professors!) that you cannot sit still during a 30 minute meeting. Next time I might try to come up with something a little more extreme to liven things up.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Is a Healthy Mouth Dirty?
There is no big incident here, just a time to share.
When I was young, I only ate onions if they were cooked. Lately, I have discovered not only a tolerance for all types of raw onions, but a love of the red ones. I love including them in my sandwiches for lunch and it makes me feel so healthy! However, I realize that even though I typically finish my lunch with something super sweet and drink plenty of water, my breath reeks of red onion for at least several hours. I've tried gum as well, to no avail.
I'm lucky that I'm not required to get too close to anyone so I don't think anyone else notices, but the taste in my mouth adds a touch of paranoia to my day. (Do I really need any more reasons to feel nervous at work? I think not!)
"Stop eating the onions!" you say? There has to be another way. I am just not prepared to give them up.
I'm wondering if I should bring a toothbrush to work, but I don't have my own office, so I'd have to carry it in my bag at all times. And, I will admit that at my old job, whenever I saw people carrying their own toothbrushes at work, I always thought "That's smart, but just too weird."
At this point my options are:
1) Say goodbye to onions and ironically tear up
2) Say hello to brushing after lunch and learn new jokes about having a "dirty mouth"
3) Tell myself that most likely no one notices and savor the red onion breath as a tribute to how much I love them
(Ok, so that last part is even too weird for me.)
When I was young, I only ate onions if they were cooked. Lately, I have discovered not only a tolerance for all types of raw onions, but a love of the red ones. I love including them in my sandwiches for lunch and it makes me feel so healthy! However, I realize that even though I typically finish my lunch with something super sweet and drink plenty of water, my breath reeks of red onion for at least several hours. I've tried gum as well, to no avail.
I'm lucky that I'm not required to get too close to anyone so I don't think anyone else notices, but the taste in my mouth adds a touch of paranoia to my day. (Do I really need any more reasons to feel nervous at work? I think not!)
"Stop eating the onions!" you say? There has to be another way. I am just not prepared to give them up.
I'm wondering if I should bring a toothbrush to work, but I don't have my own office, so I'd have to carry it in my bag at all times. And, I will admit that at my old job, whenever I saw people carrying their own toothbrushes at work, I always thought "That's smart, but just too weird."
At this point my options are:
1) Say goodbye to onions and ironically tear up
2) Say hello to brushing after lunch and learn new jokes about having a "dirty mouth"
3) Tell myself that most likely no one notices and savor the red onion breath as a tribute to how much I love them
(Ok, so that last part is even too weird for me.)
Saturday, January 17, 2009
One Big Party Foul
Being a generally awkward person, I have been to a number of slightly uncomfortable parties. Most likely I will write about some of them at a later time, but a recent one seemed to wrap up a number of potential awkward situations (messuations, as I like to call them) all in one. I will try to categorize them for your reading pleasure (you can thank me later).
First off, these days I feel it is a bad sign when I go into a house party and the lights are mostly off and the music is blaring so loud you can't talk. Also, I will explain that I did not know anyone at the party except for the two female friends I went with, and one of them had been invited by someone at the party.
1. What to do when you realize the person you are talking to is not interesting.
I was standing in a group with my girlfriends talking to two guys. After a minute or two of talking to one of the guys, I realized that this conversation was going nowhere. It was cringe-worthy. It took me way too long to realize I could just angle my body towards one of the girls to end the awkwardness. Even then, though, it was still awkward as now I had my back turned to this poor, nice guy.
2. What to do when you realize the nice person you're talking to probably wants to be hooking up, not just making a new friend.
I realized about an hour in (probably much later than I should have noticed) that this party was basically made for hooking up. Girls were mostly talking to other girls they knew or guys they could flirt with, and most guys were not necessarily interested in just making a friend. Even after I mentioned my boyfriend, guys were still flirting and hoping to dance. Now, I love dancing, and I will even dance with a guy in a semi-grinding way for a brief amount of time. However, if you do not understand the basic principles of rhythm or where your legs go, then please don't try to dance with me. As I am usually pretty sober at these events and very interested in dancing, I feel way too uncomfortable about this type of weird non-grinding, non-structured dancing where we basically wiggle very close to one another. As this was happening with a nice guy, I saw that my female friends were in another room, so I was alone with the guy, wondering when the wiggling could stop. (Our conversation had been nice! But this was...well, not.) So I did what I will from now on refer to as "pulling a Cinderella."
"What time is it?" I asked.
"Uhh, it's a quarter to 1."
"Oh no! It's late! I have to go!"
I immediately bolted to the other room to find my friend to say goodbye. However, at this point I ran into an old friend and chatted with him, so when the dancing guy came in, it looked like I was just fine and happy in this other room. (I will admit that this is true.)
3. What to do when you have a delayed realization that someone is very drunk.
I swear one guy at the party looked like an older, bigger version of Harry Potter. When one of my friends mentioned this to him, he said no one else had ever said this before. (Liar!) Anyway, he didn't really have much to talk about for the first half of the party, but later in the night, he came over to me and was dancing up a storm! It was great! And then I realized...oh, he's very drunk right now. Part of me was relieved and danced with him instead because he was being funny and most likely wouldn't even remember this anyway. Still, I find it very strange to suddenly realize that someone is not just being very funny and social, but incredibly wasted.
Anyway, I will admit there were some pretty entertaining moments of the night including s'mores, good apple cider, and fun dance music. Not the wiggling, though. Never the wiggling.
First off, these days I feel it is a bad sign when I go into a house party and the lights are mostly off and the music is blaring so loud you can't talk. Also, I will explain that I did not know anyone at the party except for the two female friends I went with, and one of them had been invited by someone at the party.
1. What to do when you realize the person you are talking to is not interesting.
I was standing in a group with my girlfriends talking to two guys. After a minute or two of talking to one of the guys, I realized that this conversation was going nowhere. It was cringe-worthy. It took me way too long to realize I could just angle my body towards one of the girls to end the awkwardness. Even then, though, it was still awkward as now I had my back turned to this poor, nice guy.
2. What to do when you realize the nice person you're talking to probably wants to be hooking up, not just making a new friend.
I realized about an hour in (probably much later than I should have noticed) that this party was basically made for hooking up. Girls were mostly talking to other girls they knew or guys they could flirt with, and most guys were not necessarily interested in just making a friend. Even after I mentioned my boyfriend, guys were still flirting and hoping to dance. Now, I love dancing, and I will even dance with a guy in a semi-grinding way for a brief amount of time. However, if you do not understand the basic principles of rhythm or where your legs go, then please don't try to dance with me. As I am usually pretty sober at these events and very interested in dancing, I feel way too uncomfortable about this type of weird non-grinding, non-structured dancing where we basically wiggle very close to one another. As this was happening with a nice guy, I saw that my female friends were in another room, so I was alone with the guy, wondering when the wiggling could stop. (Our conversation had been nice! But this was...well, not.) So I did what I will from now on refer to as "pulling a Cinderella."
"What time is it?" I asked.
"Uhh, it's a quarter to 1."
"Oh no! It's late! I have to go!"
I immediately bolted to the other room to find my friend to say goodbye. However, at this point I ran into an old friend and chatted with him, so when the dancing guy came in, it looked like I was just fine and happy in this other room. (I will admit that this is true.)
3. What to do when you have a delayed realization that someone is very drunk.
I swear one guy at the party looked like an older, bigger version of Harry Potter. When one of my friends mentioned this to him, he said no one else had ever said this before. (Liar!) Anyway, he didn't really have much to talk about for the first half of the party, but later in the night, he came over to me and was dancing up a storm! It was great! And then I realized...oh, he's very drunk right now. Part of me was relieved and danced with him instead because he was being funny and most likely wouldn't even remember this anyway. Still, I find it very strange to suddenly realize that someone is not just being very funny and social, but incredibly wasted.
Anyway, I will admit there were some pretty entertaining moments of the night including s'mores, good apple cider, and fun dance music. Not the wiggling, though. Never the wiggling.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Survey Says: It Takes Work to Get an A
One of my most memorable classes in college was all about market research. Not because each class was filled with exciting lectures, but because everyone in the class (I'm talking girls and all of the gay guys) always gossiped with one another about how attractive our male Teachers Assistant was. In my project group alone, a gay friend and I would debate who the TA would give sweet, longing glares to, him or me. (Hindsight says neither, but it got us through lectures, so let us be!)
Anyway, as my group prepared for our final presentation in which we would present our survey and the multitude of results there were to explain, I joked that we should also mention the TA was hot. My fellow group members laughed, considering we had spent 50% of our group meetings discussing this, and then suggested we go with it since I was the last one in the group to present anyway. Now I have done some bold things in my time in college, but this was extreme. After a minute or two, I agreed, thinking that it would be the very last day of class anyway, and I would never see the TA again.
So, on the last day of class, my group sat nervously as we sat through one boring presentation after another. (It would have been hard for any presentation to be exciting in that class.) I noticed that one group had even invited executives from a local business to watch their presentation. When my group got up to present, my knees were shaking. I knew there was no way I could back out since we had even made a slide in our powerpoint presentation.
I don't think I heard anything that came out of my group members' mouths. As I began to conclude our presentation, I looked over to the TA, and seeing his beautiful, blue eyes, I knew I had to go through with it.
"And in our final survey, we concluded that TA is hot! Any questions?"
The class roared with laughter and applause, and both the professor and the TA were beaming. I'm pretty sure the TA looked at us and said "A+!"
What a success! I felt completely satisfied with going out on a limb and so did my group. (We later learned that we all received A's for the class.)
So where does the awkwardness come in? Well, because I had actually ended up enjoying the class and the professor, I decided to take another class with him. Little did I know that on the first day of class, the same TA would walk in! My professor looked at me, looked at my TA, then back at me as he chuckled a little too loudly. I'm fairly certain I quickly looked down at my desk as my cheeks turned scarlet.
When it came time for another final group presentation, I tried to convince my new group to follow up on my past confession, but to no avail. Fortunately, I did well in the class without having to profess my attraction.
I also ran into this same TA a year later at a party, but I tried to keep the conversation limited as I chatted with both him and his new girlfriend.
If you're out there, TA, call me! (Sorry, Boyfriend. But he's hot!)
Anyway, as my group prepared for our final presentation in which we would present our survey and the multitude of results there were to explain, I joked that we should also mention the TA was hot. My fellow group members laughed, considering we had spent 50% of our group meetings discussing this, and then suggested we go with it since I was the last one in the group to present anyway. Now I have done some bold things in my time in college, but this was extreme. After a minute or two, I agreed, thinking that it would be the very last day of class anyway, and I would never see the TA again.
So, on the last day of class, my group sat nervously as we sat through one boring presentation after another. (It would have been hard for any presentation to be exciting in that class.) I noticed that one group had even invited executives from a local business to watch their presentation. When my group got up to present, my knees were shaking. I knew there was no way I could back out since we had even made a slide in our powerpoint presentation.
I don't think I heard anything that came out of my group members' mouths. As I began to conclude our presentation, I looked over to the TA, and seeing his beautiful, blue eyes, I knew I had to go through with it.
"And in our final survey, we concluded that TA is hot! Any questions?"
The class roared with laughter and applause, and both the professor and the TA were beaming. I'm pretty sure the TA looked at us and said "A+!"
What a success! I felt completely satisfied with going out on a limb and so did my group. (We later learned that we all received A's for the class.)
So where does the awkwardness come in? Well, because I had actually ended up enjoying the class and the professor, I decided to take another class with him. Little did I know that on the first day of class, the same TA would walk in! My professor looked at me, looked at my TA, then back at me as he chuckled a little too loudly. I'm fairly certain I quickly looked down at my desk as my cheeks turned scarlet.
When it came time for another final group presentation, I tried to convince my new group to follow up on my past confession, but to no avail. Fortunately, I did well in the class without having to profess my attraction.
I also ran into this same TA a year later at a party, but I tried to keep the conversation limited as I chatted with both him and his new girlfriend.
If you're out there, TA, call me! (Sorry, Boyfriend. But he's hot!)
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