Thanks. Thanks a lot.
In this past week, the week of June 15th, 2009, the longest week I can remember in a very long time, I have received numerous comments on my appearance.
Monday
A chipper co-worker asked me: "Did you get some sun this weekend?" Well, yes. I did "get" a little bit of sun. A couple days ago I went for a 8 mile run in sweltering 100 degree weather. The sun was beating down on me and consequently, I achieved a sports bra tan and, technically, a sunburn. A sunburn that had subsided substantially. Or, so I thought. I responded that yes, I was out in the sun for a couple of hours this weekend. To which another co-worker chimed in, "You ARE burned!"
Thanks.
Tuesday
Drinks with a brigade of dorkish characters. Allow me to paint a picture: At one point I was sitting bitch in a PT Cruiser wedged between the driver's recently dry-cleaned suits and a cat-loving, French-speaking, briefcase-toting law student named "Herschel," while Sisquo's The Thong Song blared from an iPod shuffle as we tore down North Central Expressway. The table conversation at the bar was dominated by Tyler Florence/Applebee's jokes, ("I have made perhaps my greatest creation!") and at one point someone said "motor-boarding" by mistake in place of "motor-boating", which brings up a whole host of issues, and possible terrorist affiliations.
Regardless, Hershel made an offhand comment that, surely, I would have a deeper understanding about whatever he was saying, because I was a swimmer.
Am I? Did I tell you that? Or did you just say that because...
"Aren't you? You have broad shoulders. Sorry I'm honest when I'm drunk," said Hershel.
THANKS.
Wednesday
I call a co-worker to ask a work question. Instead of the usual "Hello?" I am met with resounding laughter. Upon inquiry, I was informed that this person overheard me yesterday talking on the phone in the bathroom. "I recognized your voice and I thought to myself, she can be quiet!"
Apparently my hushed tones when conversing with someone in the bathroom were quite astounding to this person who, (indirectly), called me loud. (This particular accusation is a pet peeve of mine).
I am loud. DEAL with it.
At this point, I have been called loud, sunburned, and broad-shouldered, so bring it.
Thursday (Today)
"You look tired. Like you're not quite here yet."
"Yeah. How about you have your coffee before you come get coffee? You are a hazard on the roads."
Ok people...I know I'm not a morning person, but I did the unusual today! I actually showered, dried my hair and put on makeup. Guess that's not fooling anyone.
Thanks again.
So, I'm a loud, sun-burned, broad-shouldered, admittedly morning impaired individual. I realize I actually am these things. But, obviously I'm developing a bit of a complex here...Thinking back on this week, an additional commentary is created in my mind. I could swear someone on my run called out "LEFT!" and added "pudgy" under his breath. I hope I made that part up. If not, let's add it to the list.
To those who have contributed to my self-confidence this week: What is it about not really knowing me that has allowed you to make blunt remarks about my appearance and demeanor?
I hope I'm not guilty of calling other people out to this extent.
If not a complex, at the very least, I have developed some level of social anxiety. The older I get, the more I will go out of my way to avoid strangers. I become visibly disraught when I have to make small talk. I avoid crowds like the plague. Taking the elevator? Not if I don't know you. I'll take the stairs.
If there is a moral to this story - or modern-day fable - if I may, it is that as much as I am developing an aversion to strangers, I am gaining a futher appreciation of my friends.
Case in point, one who just said: "Well, I told you the other day how hot you looked. So make sure to mention those of us who think you're a babe."
Thank you. And this time, I mean it.
