adventures in awkward

I’ve never done this before, but instead of being, you know… productive this morning and writing the post I had planned, I ended up spending two hours reading every.single.post I’ve made since I started this blog. That’s almost two years worth. I was going to write about a funny story from my childhood but for the life of me – I couldn’t remember if I’d posted about it before. I’m worried I’m going to start repeating myself and look like a complete idiot. Have you guys gotten to that point yet? My mind has gone to complete crap. Maybe it’s my age or the long term effect of eating too many cheese balls as a kid, but I’m blaming 4/20 even though I haven’t smoked in years. Yep, definitely the weed’s fault.

So, for the first time ever, I’m going to do a ‘Friday Flashback‘ post and share one from over a year ago. It goes along well with the fact that I’ve been feeling a bit down from having a lack of a life/friends lately. (Why is it so hard to make friends as an adult? I never had this issue when I was younger.)


February 2016:

I recently stumbled upon a blogger who was reviewing a local restaurant right down the road from me. It made me pretty excited, so I posted a comment and tried to connect with her. I really had no intention of meeting this person, I just wanted to tell her how much I agreed with her good review and next time she should get the Bacon & Pimento Cheeseburger because it will give her a mouthgasm. (If you don’t know what Pimento cheese is, you’re not living life.)

 

Well… she never responded to me. I figured I might come across a bit crazy in my writing, so I thought reaching out to her in an email would clear my name and make her feel more at ease:

“Hi!

I commented on your post recently and I’m worried I came across weird and freaked you out. Don’t be scared. I didn’t want to meet up with you or anything like that. I know I come across a little crazy on my blog… but I assure you I’m more of a “I made my 8-year-old niece try a dog treat crazy” rather than a “I’m going to find your house and harvest your organs crazy.” Speaking of your house, the one on your Bio page is so cute. So is your dog. If you want to be friends, I’m just down the road.

-Blair”

Pretty sure I made it worse. You win some, you lose some right?

Lesson of the Day : If you want to make new friends off the internet, don’t mention living down the road from them and harvesting their organs in the same paragraph.

PS – I promise… I’m really not crazy! Well, not serial killer crazy at least.

adventures in awkward

When I was a teenager my best friend and I used to spend hours sitting at the mall watching people. Usually we would catch the occasional nose picker or someone with a wedgie so deep up their crack we worried about impending paralysis, but normally it was just boring. Not to mention the fact that people didn’t enjoy that we were staring at them and being asshole judgmental teens. Oh well. What else were we supposed to do when we were sitting there enjoying our soft pretzel with melty cheese? Be nice? Psht. (Mmm Auntie Anne’s. Gotta find one of those around here sometime.)

I’ve been thinking about reprising my role of people watching, though, because the past few days I’ve overheard two very strange conversations in public:

When I was walking a paved path at a community park on Tuesday, I heard a woman say, “It took me so long to find a private place to air out my vagina.What?! I have to know why this was a thing. Did she wet herself? Was she sweaty? Did she let out a sulfuric queef that was lingering? So many questions I need answered.

When I was standing in line at PetSmart yesterday, I heard a young girl say, “My dog accidentally licked my nipple when I was getting into the bath. I hope I don’t get pregnant with puppies. I’m not ready to be a mom.” Ah… the innocence of childhood. I thought this was cute for a little kid to say.

What’s the weirdest thing you’ve overheard before?

Also, Happy St. Patrick’s Day. Hope everyone enjoys being glued to the toilet and plagued with green poop all day tomorrow from all the food dye.

(This picture has zero to do with my post, but… as I was looking for St. Paddy’s/Irish pictures it came up. I couldn’t stop laughing. I didn’t even see her at first! I’m only like 5% Irish, but I suffer from the same pastey white affliction.)

rambles

People in costumes make me violent. No, not your cute 5-year-olds dressed up as Pocahontas and John Smith, just the adults. It doesn’t matter if it’s women shoved into slutty nurse costumes that leave little to the imagination on Halloween, or if it’s a Chewbacca-nerd at a Star Wars convention. Either way – I’m uncomfortable. The first time I went to Disney World, two people dressed as mimes followed my sister and I around because they thought they were being funny by scaring us. I threw my half-eaten corndog at one’s eye, and dumped my drink on the other. Don’t mess with me – I’m armed with food.

I was at a birthday party this weekend for two of my nieces, and of course, there was a clown. We found ourselves alone inside while he was getting set up, so I thought it would be a good time to have an adult conversation with him.

camandmitchclown

Me: I just want to let you know in private, I’m afraid of clowns. I know it’s irrational because you’re probably just a normal guy with a family, but I felt the need to tell you. Hopefully it will help me keep my shit together today.

Clown: Hi, I’m Bozo! Being a clown is normal!  Everyone in my family is a clown and we love making people laugh, especially with our tricks! If you promise to not use potty language, I’ll make you a balloon animal! What one would you love to have?

Me: Bozo? That’s a fitting name… because you’re not getting my point. Can we just talk like normal adults? We’re alone.

Clown: Well, whatever do you mean, normal? A clown is normal, and everyone loves balloon animals!

Me: I hate you. Next time someone throws a pie in your face, I hope you choke on a rogue blueberry.

Clown: Ho ho ha ha. You’ve got quite the imagination! Want to be my very special helper today? There are bunnies involved! If you do well, you can even hold one! Isn’t that so exciting?

Me: I will kill you.

I spent the rest of the day lurking in the background of the party with a wine glass clutched close. Do you have any irrational fears? Ones that are rational? Shouldn’t clowns be illegal?

adventures in awkward

I live in state that’s very much despised by the rest of the country right now. North Carolina. Go on, get your gasps out. Grip your children close and shield their eyes. You don’t want to catch these cooties. Truthfully, I haven’t been paying much attention to the uproar over the ‘bathroom law’ that’s been plastered on the news but it slapped me in the face this afternoon when I least expected it.

If you’ve been around here for awhile, I’ve made it pretty clear I have an undying love for Target and the ability to get an overpriced latte and traipse around the aisles for hours looking at crap NOBODY needs. (No, not even you. Step away from the discounted pair of Easter bunny ears.) I went there this afternoon to try to find a Mother’s Day gift, but I ran into an angry bunch of crazies waiting for unsuspecting customers at the store’s entrance.

morans

Crazy Woman: You shouldn’t shop in Target… they aren’t interested in keeping women and children safe.

Me: Say what now?

Crazy: The company supports transgender people using whatever bathroom they want! Can you believe that? It’s an outrage! Men will be allowed into the women’s bathroom!

Me: One time I used the men’s bathroom because I couldn’t hold it. It was disgusting in there. Like someone threw up on top of a dead raccoon and let it fester in the hot sun for a week while crows pecked its eyes out. I gotta tell you… I died a little inside. How do men deal with it? I’ll never know….

Crazy: That’s totally different, though. It’s not the same as a man in a woman’s bathroom. How can you not see that? Are you stupid? This is important and you’re acting like it’s a joke. You’re an embarrassment to America and the foundation it was built on.

Me: Oh, yeah…. I’m the embarrassment to America. Right.

WHAT is going on in this country? How is calling a stranger stupid acceptable? How is saying it’s okay for women to do something but not men? What is it in my personality that attracts crazy people? Since my therapist prescribes me something to keep my own crazy away, can she prescribe me something to keep other crazy people away too?

It’s getting harder and harder to leave the house with anxiety nowadays.

rambles

Today my social anxiety and awkwardness claimed another victim. I really don’t know how I’ve made it so long without being monitored in public. I need to hire an adult nanny so they can help me from making a fool of myself. All I need is a social companion. Do those exist? Should I hire someone? Anyone need a job hanging out and being emotional support to a woman on the brink of crazy-town? Unlimited Wi-Fi and Diet Coke available. Games and activities like Exploding Kittens and brownie-eating-competitions will be provided. (Just don’t blow up my real cats, okay?)

(This started as a joke, but now there’s a part of me that really wants to hire someone who will do all of that with me. A sad testament to how little friends I have that it’s come to the point I’d consider paying someone to be one. Loser alert. It’s hard being an adult.)

makingfriends

On to today’s victim in the pharmacy: 

Woman: Excuse me, I know you don’t work here… but can I ask you something?

Me: Sure. Unless it’s about condoms. I don’t use those so I don’t really have any legitimate advice on them. If I were you, I’d go with the ones that emphasize the woman’s pleasure though. Why the hell not, right? You’re the one here buying them. It’s okay being selfish sometimes.

Woman: Oh…

Me: I know what you’re thinking, but it was an educated and personal decision of ours. I’m married. Happily married even!

Woman: … I was just going to ask you if you knew where the Claritin was…

Me: Oh.. uh.. sorry. It’s right over there. Next to the hemorrhoid creams. Which, thankfully, I also don’t need to use. *nervous laughter*

*Woman stares at me with wide eyes and runs away*

conversations, marriage, rambles

Today I faced one of my biggest fears and got a haircut. I know. It doesn’t seem like a monumental occasion, and you’re probably thinking I’m bat-shit crazy or that I’m really a 5-year-old masquerading as the classy woman I am. But, I assure you, I am not five nor classy.

It seems like a ridiculous thing to be scared of, but when you’re socially awkward… it’s a fear that runs deep. Forced conversations with a stranger with nowhere to run? There are very few things that are as terrifying as this.ericforman

 

Hairdresser: Hi Blair, how are you doing today?

Me: Hi! My name is Blair.

Hairdresser: Ooookay… What can I do for you today?

Me: I need like six inches off with some long whispy bangs. Not too short with the bangs though. My husband thinks they are ugly. He would never tell me what to do with my hair but I don’t want him to think I’m ugly. I rely on him for things, you know. I can either get bangs from you now, or get my bang from him later.

(looks up and realizes the hairdresser has bangs)

Me: You can be the exception to the rule because yours look good. I’m sure my husband wouldn’t think you were ugly. I don’t think he’d want to bang you though. If he did I’d probably kill him. I hope you don’t take that personally.

Hairdresser: ….

Me: I’m sorry. I’m nervous. I’m just going to sit here quietly and listen to Dr. Phil until it’s time for me to give you a generous tip.

I think I deserve a cookie for getting my haircut for the first time in a year, or at least, a high-five. On top of that, I went to the doctor for the first time yesterday in six years. Imagine how awkward I am when I have to take my clothes off and have the doctor’s icy hands of death touch me.

Small victories, guys. Small victories.

conversations

kneelingforgodLast week, I was asked by a friend to go to mass with her on Ash Wednesday. I’m not sure if she felt like I was in need of some holy intervention or she was just being friendly but, after much hesitation I figured, ‘why the fuck not?’ What’s the worst that could happen? The communion will give me diarrhea and I’ll have to step over everyone while they’re kneeling in the pew? I’ll trip and my boobs will accidentally fall out of my shirt in front of the poor virgin priest and his ragtag band of alter boys? I could survive those, right? No problem.

Well… I made it about twenty minutes in before I was convinced I was dying.

Me: Do you think it’s hot in here? I’ve got some swamp ass brewing.

Friend: No… I’m actually kind of chilly. Are you okay?

Me: Well… this is it. I’m dying. I’ve crossed into God’s house, and he’s striking me down and it’s only a matter of time until I burst into flames. This was bound to happen. I’m a terrible person.  Yesterday I stole an extra cracker from the sweet old lady handing out samples at Publix. It wasn’t even good but I couldn’t help myself. Who does shit like that? WHO?

Random Guy Next To Me: Everyone. Everyone does that.

Me: Oh. Really? That makes me feel better. Do you also try to secretly grope your spouse in public when you think no one is watching? God could be pissed at me for that. I’m pretty handsy. Do you do that, too? It would make me feel a lot more relieved if you did. You seem like a regular here and God hasn’t smited you yet.

Guy: Uh… can you stop talking to me?  You’re making me uncomfortable.

familyguygod

I don’t think I’m welcome there anymore. 

Do churches give you anxiety? I grew up in a religious family and I’m pretty familiar with them. Yet… they still scare the shit out of me. What the hell?

Everyone stay safe out there. There’s some bad weather brewing.

conversations, rambles

When I was living in New York, one of my biggest complaints were the people. Sure, there were some good ones around, but it seemed like the majority were complete assholes. If they didn’t ignore you, they went out of their way to be a straight prick. New Yorkers…right? It’s the opposite here in the south. Some days, like today, you get to meet a really odd stranger while picking out some produce. strangerdangercat

Random Guy: Okay, I have to ask. Why are you buying so many jalapenos? What are you making that’s so spicy?

Me: Just jalapeno poppers for the Super Bowl. Nothing crazy.

RG: Oh. Are you sharing them with other people? If not, you are going to be shitting fire for a week straight.

Me: *holds up bag of 35 jalapenos* Yeah. Definitely sharing all of these. No ass-fire for me.

RG:  I did it once. On a dare. I ate 10 whole ones. I felt like there was a zombie baby stuck in my colon and eating me from the inside. I was pretty sure my intestines were going to blow up and I was going to die. What a weird way to die, right? That would be a weird obituary. Death by ass-plosion.  But at the same time, I’d love to make my parents have to deal with that added embarrassment when I’m gone.

Me: … you’re pretty fucking weird.

RG: Yeah, I’m sorry. That was pretty inappropriate to say to a stranger.

Me: No… I’m trying to ask you to be my friend. I love weird. Anyone who has the balls to say ‘ass-plosion’ to a stranger is okay by me.

minionhug

 

Ah… gotta love the south.

GO PANTHERS. WOO!

conversations

Anyone else have an unhealthy relationship with Target? I’m a bit obsessed. I could spend hours walking up and down the aisles, sipping my overpriced Starbucks, and staring at all the bathroom decorations and trying to decide if it’s a good time to redecorate or not. The other day, Alex called me to make sure I was still alive and wondering if he should send a search party because I had been MIA for too long. It’s hard not to get consumed in there. I love it. I really do… but the employees hate me.

targetmeme

Target Cashier: Hi, how are you today? Did you find everything alright?

Me: I’m good, thanks. I found everything I needed. I’m just trying to convince myself to not get a Snickers. Sometimes it takes a lot of effort. I definitely don’t need one. You know what I’m saying?

Target Cashier: *awkward smile* Do you want to sign up for our RedCard today?

Me: No, thanks….. You know, I’m going for the it. Why not? I worked out today. Ate a salad for lunch. Plus… it’s Christmas. I wouldn’t be an American if I didn’t gain weight over the holidays. So, I’m doing it. The decision is made. I’m about to kill this almond one. It’s only $1 anyways, right? That’s nothing. It’s totally worth it. Ring her up, kind lady.

Target Cashier: Okay. Do you want to donate $1 to end local child hunger?

Me: ….

Target Cashier: ….

Me: Why’d you have to make this awkward, Julie?