Thursday, July 8, 2010

The Beginning

I have thought for a long time about where to begin my story of my life as a social twit. I have tried to think if there was one defining moment that sealed my fate or if it was just a gradual natural progression. I have sought the counsel of my longtime peers, my husband, my parents and my harshest critic, my sister and none of them seem to think it was a meteor-striking-the-earth moment or a series of experiences that led to the ultimate final culmination of ridiculous behavior. Instead, they all seem to have the same assessment: "I think you were just born this way."

And truthfully, I believe this might be exactly what happened. After years and years of searching for answers, I finally had a breakthrough moment. I couldn't help it. I was born this way! I was born to attract all the Grade A Weirdos in the grocery store, put myself into every possible awkward scenario, and inevitably make an ass out of myself at pretty much every juncture. This revelation was one I can only adequately describe as a rebirth of sorts. I was born this way!! I could no longer be held accountable for my actions no more than a person with Terrets can be blamed for their unfortunately timed outbursts. I was a victim; an untreated patient if you will and instead of trying to hide my genetic disposition, I was now proudly going to wave my banner high.

Almost immediately, I began to embrace what I had long considered a misfortune and began to really explore the opportunities this was going to provide me. I wasn't going to seek out awkward situations or potentially embarrassing moments but if they presented themselves, I was going to meet them head on with gusto and poise and an appreciation for the unexpected in life. I was a pioneer of sorts and no social norms were going to keep me down.

So on my first day as a new pioneer, I donned my new pair of pants and a snazzy new shirt, some fantastic new MAC eyeliner and headed out the door. Feeling as though I might need all the reinforcement I could get, I stopped at the local coffee joint and patiently waited in line. Standing behind me was an older gentleman, early sixties I would say, and I noticed he was staring at me rather intently as I moved up in line. Figuring he was just one of those rude individuals who doesn't know that staring can be misconstrued as an act of aggression, I chose not to ask him if he would like to take a picture and tried to ignore him. All of a sudden I heard him mutter "Sexy" in a barely audible voice. This was enough. I can take a little staring and truth be told, enjoy it from time to time but when the cat calling and name calling begins, you know you are just mere moments away from a full on grope so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I turned around giving him my best "F Off Buddy" look and said "Excuse Me?" The gentleman (if you can even call that pervert a gentleman) said very matter of factly, "You're a six." I was appalled. Here this a-hole was, judging me like some heffer at the local county fair and grading me on my choice meat. Well, no sir. I was not going to take this sort of behavior. I quickly replied back "Yeah and I'm married so I'm someone else's six, thank you very much," and turned on my heels and stomped out of the door. Under my normal circumstances, I would have probably just let it slide and turned as red as the soles of my shoes. Instead I showed that FDA Livestock Inspector who was really in charge.

I strutted into my office feeling overly confident, proud of the start I had made to rise above my inherent circumstances and walked into the 9 AM staff meeting, ready to regale my fellow co-workers with my triumph. Just as I was beginning to strut my peacock feathers, my boss Meg came in and quietly whispered "You still have the size sticker on the side of your pants!" With that, I quickly realized the sad truth that with some things, rising above is just not an option. Better luck tomorrow I suppose.

PS – to the gentleman I have called an a-hole, a pervert, and effectively told to F- OFF, I truly do apologize. I can't be helped and they don't make medicine to treat this sort of thing. God Bless.


Mary Ashley

Bahahahahahaha! Love the picture and the blog!


This is great! Looking forward to more...

-Amber (random girl from New Media)

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