Archive | March 22, 2007

It’s Not Me. It’s My Evil Twin.

By on March 22, 2007 in The Biotch, The Diva

I am beginning to think that, as I near 30, I am not as optimistically resillient as I once was.  I hate this.

Last night, as I finagled Bryan into stopping for a milkshake (I don’t think he bought the whole “OHMYGOD, I forgot there was a Ben & Jerry’s here!  Since we’re here.. we should totally get a milkshake” routine), I teased him about the fact that I’ve cooked, like, eighty meals in the last week.  I didn’t think I pushed too hard with it, but he looked at me, completely serious, and said, “You’re being very hateful tonight.”

And at the time, I laughed it off, because I didn’t feel like I was being hateful.  I felt like I was just teasing.  Hardball teasing, but teasing nonetheless.  I think I went so far as to call him a pussy-girlie-girl (which, I’m sure, did worlds of good for alleviating the “hateful” vibe I was putting out). 

However, this morning, I was sitting in a training class.  I normally don’t mind these necessary evils, and always make a point of meeting everyone in the room.  But today, I sat in a corner by myself.  Someone looked my way (turns out they were trying to read my badge for the attendance list) and .. ready?.. I snapped at them.  Me.  Snapped.  Then, on the way out, I held the door for the lady behind me (several times) without even saying “You’re welcome” when she thanked me.  Me.  Miss Etiquette.

Later, a coworker was walking right beside me for a good ten yards without me even acknowledging him.  He asked me a question (I suppose just to get my attention), and I turned around and answered him with facts, then turned and kept walking.

Who AM I?  Why am letting stupid stuff do this to me?

I don’t like being this short-tempered and evil person.  And yes, even though I have some serious stress in my life, there is no excuse valid enough for me to treat people that way.  I am not like that.  It’s pissing me off.

I need to get away this weekend.  Before I kill someone.

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If Only I DID Tags.

By on March 22, 2007 in The Blushing Bride, The Diva

One of my favorite things about Bryan and I as a couple is that, between the two of us, we know someone EVERYWHERE we go. (Same holds true with The Boy.  He knows more people than we could dream of knowing.) Everywhere we go, we will run into two or three people that know us and.. get this.. like us. (Or they will like one of us and silently tolerate the other half.)

I say that with amazement because, as a child, I was one of 14 Sarahs in every class.  Add to that that I was pale and blonde, and I was pretty much invisible.  I moved through life without being memorable to anyone, and was resigned to such a life of anonymity.  I figured that once a show closed, the entire cast forgot that I ever existed.  Or once I graduated, I was immediately erased from people’s memory.  Or once I left that job, my coworkers (even if they saw me in public) would just glaze over me as if I were faceless.

Which is why, in public, I will see people I know and not approach them.  Case in point: we sat one section over from my hairdresser and her family at last week’s Havoc game.  Bryan said, “Why don’t you go say hi?” and I didn’t have an answer.  But the answer is, “Because there is nothing more humiliating than saying hi and then having to re-introduce yourself.”

But in the last few years, I have noticed that people will come up to me now.  Especially if I’m with Bryan.  I think this is either because I look more approachable with a mate or because they read this site and they really want to meet the man who says I inspire him “to hold [his] poots in.” 

This comes with a bit of pressure.  I feel the need to wear a bra in public.  All the time.  Even if I’m just walking down to Star Market.  Because Lord forbid I crave some andouille sausage and happen to bump into Mayor Spencer with bouncy and sagging boobs.  I also have to praise my hairdresser, for teaching me how to make my head look good for TWO DAYS IN A ROW, thus saving my lazy ass the trouble of washing it.  The cut makes itself work no matter what look my outfit portrays, so she is a miracle worker to rival the deeds of Mother Teresa.

I have no clever way to end this trail of thought, and looking back, I’m not sure I ever had a plan to end it.  I think I was looking back on the last evening, where we saw tons of people we knew in Parkway Place, and even got to witness one of them hit on a giant bunny.

I will say this, however; if I were to set tags to this post (in HTML speak, that’s like tagging key words that search engines would find), they would be like this:
[tags]invisible, Mayor Spencer, Star Market, saggy boobs, Mother Teresa, giant bunny[/tags]

You gotta admit, that’s a helluva post right there.

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