I'm going to admit something to you all that will probably come as quite a shock; I say a lot of really ignorant things.
I speak without thinking, I speed read without comprehending, I listen.... but not really, and then I weigh in! Because everyone wants to know what I have to say! Right? Huh? I know. I have higher expectations of myself too.
Luckily I have a series of "fall back" remarks that I feel are the equivalent of a pink sparkly magic wand that erase blame. Nifty huh?
- "I'm blonde." *tee hee hee. titter titter. smoker's cough. hairball.*
- "I went to Art School."
- "Having children melted my brain."
- "I suffer from CRS*" *Can't Remember Shit
- "I wasn't paying attention" and/or "I'm not a good listener."
- "I like cheese."
- "Yeah, but did you see my boots?"
- "I'm sorry, I wasn't wearing my glasses. Could you repeat the question?"
- "OMG! Did you see Top Model the other night?"
- *licks glass and sings softly to herself while gazing at the ceiling*
As much as I would like to tell myself that I always strike people as intelligent, witty and charming, I know that sometimes a first impression of me is like a quick trip through the Twilight Zone; one with an ill-timed bathroom break and a theme song by CW McCall on 8-track playing in the background.
Like that one time, when I had just met some dude. I don't remember his name or why I met him (see excuse number 5 above), but I do recall that he told me that he was from Johnstown (a city here in Colorado) and I immediately thought of the giant truck stop called Johnson's Corner that is about 15 minutes from my house that is known for their giant cinnamon rolls and all I could think about was drippy icing and public showers and waitresses named Wanda and I excitedly said to him "Ohhh! I love the cinnamon rolls there!!!!!" *awkward pause* This dude from JOHNSTOWN, not the truck stop called Johnson's Corner, just looked at me like I had stripped naked and performed a Russian Folk Dance with a hot pink rooster perched on my head. I didn't even acknowledge my error but instead looked out across the landscape, played with my hair and started rambling about the state of the cornfields. What was the point? I felt that not only did my hair color speak for itself, but I also had already impressed enough people that day. No actually, I felt ashamed and a bit guilty of my too-quick-to-speak-cinnamon-roll-fantasizing faux pas and if I could go back to that conversation (or the many, many, many like it), I would remember to mention the good coffee, too.
As much as I use, hence obviously adore, my plethora of ludicrous excuses, what truly pleases me is my unabashed friend Sarah, who makes no excuses whatsoever for herself. This sort of business, and the way she can insult a person while simultaneously charming them, are only a tiny sampling of the many reasons why I treasure her friendship and hang out with her basically every day. Like yesterday, which was craft day and today was pumpkins and tomorrow is shopping and drinking. What? So anyway, according to Sarah, you own it and live in the moment. You see, Sarah is not blonde, so she has to rely on things like actual humor and intelligence to get her by. I know. I feel sorry for her too. But don't expect her to feel like life cheated her out of anything.
"I never feel guilty. It is not in my nature. Life is too short to feel guilt. I don't regret anything either. I used to regret kissing a guy in a bar one night and I realized it was just a kiss in a bar and I stopped regretting it." ~Sarah
Not only is Sarah not blonde, she was obviously also not raised Catholic.
~How do you get yourself out of a situation where you spoke unwisely? And how do you get yourself to stop thinking about really good cinnamon rolls?