A Score and Nine Years

In my 29 years of life, I've thought long and hard about who and what I am. Don't we all?

Here is a list of attributes and an objective look at how I believe I score on them.

SMART 8.0 Knows FDR died in Warm Springs Georgia in 1945, that bees are kept in an apiary, and the US Constitution has 27 amendments... BUT can't count group members correctly if she a member of the group.

POLITICALLY CORRECT 6.5 Withholds inappropriate comments about sensitive topics ... BUT makes them later to select audience who is sure to laugh.

CAPABLE 7.0 Understands Fire=Hot... BUT has trouble fitting shoes back in a shoebox correctly.

CLASSY 5.5 Enjoys good food and good wine...BUT enjoys Taco Bell and a Bud Light.

WELL-READ 2.0 Knows Joseph Heller wrote Catch 22 , John Steinbeck wrote The Grapes of Wrath, and The Jungle is about meatpacking in Chicago ... BUT has read none of these books.

GENEROUS 5.5 Will gladly donate to causes when asked...BUT must be asked via telegraph between 12 am - 2 am on Tuedays.

CONSIDERATE 8.0 Often considers the feelings and desires of others...BUT is less interested if said feelings and desires aren't funny.

INTELLIGENT 7.0 Has a 3-digit IQ...BUT is pretty sure no digit is higher than 1.

GOOD-LOOKING 7.0 Elicits screams of "Yeah, Baby!" from men on the street...BUT only when holding a "Yankees Suck!" sign.

ATHLETIC 5.0 Was MVP on her softball team as a child...BUT misread coach's signal, ran past 3rd, was tagged out, and lost the game as an adult.

GENUINE 7.5 Hates superficial people and conceit...BUT really digs people who are freakin' hot.

HONEST 8.5 Speaks the truth as often as possible...BUT is hoping to score free cable from Comcast.
___________________________

OVERALL 77.5/120 Not too shabby!!!

Waiting for the Echo

I'm easily distracted. I require absolute silence to read without moving my lips or skipping ahead to find out what actually DID happen to Dick & Jane. The backdrop of conversations equals one auditory blur. The sudden convergence of sounds means I hear nothing discernable.

In untimely events this occurs mid-conversation, and I am left with three options:

Option 1: playing along as if I haven’t tuned out the last 4 sentences AND forgotten the topic.
Option 2: interrupting to say something like, “Uh, I’m sorry….What were you saying?”
Option 3: waiting for the echo.

Waiting for the echo: Action taken by a distracted (though good looking) individual to decipher a previously-given statement. Consists of mentally repeating said statement multiple times until clarity of its content is reached. Requires absolute concentration and persistence. Must be done inconspicuously. Caution: May cause wrinkley forehead.

It is a difficult balance. The decision to use one option over the other is entirely dependent on the circumstances.

Option 1 is best when the conversation partner is (a) not very bright, so topics are often simple and easy to follow, (b) not very bright, so the fact that I have zoned out is never noticed, or (c) a blabbermouth who is not concerned with whether I contribute or not.

Option 2 is best when (a) the conversation partner knows I am an easily distracted but likes me anyway, or (b) it is likely that I will be quizzed or asked a follow-up question, and efforts at “faking it” will be transparent.

Option 3 is best when time or distance create the opportunity to figure out what has been said. At this point, waiting for the echo can be quite helpful.

Waiting for the echo in action: Last week I stopped by for a quick visit to a friend at work. As I was leaving, amid the din of office noise, voices and foot traffic, I heard the following: “Blah blahty blahty blah” from her cube.

“Blah blahty blahty blah???” I thought to myself.

"Blah blahty blahty blah…” I replayed as I walked farther way.

“Blah blahty blahty blah.” and I finally figured it out.

______________________

“Come visit any time” she said.

Thank you, my friend, I will! And thank you too echo!

(Funny) Apologies to My Family

MOM: I’m sorry you are the source of so much humor. You’re the nicest, most considerate person ever. But really, the comment about requesting apple sauce in a restaurant because you sometimes just “like a good bowl of apple sauce” made all of us laugh. And, ok, I have mimicked the way you lean WAY back (that is really far!) to finish the very bottom of your Caffeine Free Diet Coke, but it was all in good fun. The “go around, please” signal you give to other walkers when you clasp your hands behind you and stroll leisurely along is great. And seriously, the time you fell out of the boat – are you kidding me???

DAD: I do a pretty good impersonation of you. So I’m sorry that everyone I know thinks you begin each sentence with “Well, hell, Nancy…” in a deep Southern accent. But the truth is, well, you kinda do. You do sound like the crazy love child of Dr. Phil and Boss Hog. But you’re very smart and self-made, so I guess the accent is working for you.

KATH: I have no idea how you got that scar on your knee. You’ve never, EVER done anything (a) dangerous, (b) athletic, or (c) outdoors. So I’m sorry I made fun of your geekiness by saying that you “Were setting up your new computer and tripped and fell when you got distracted by your poster of Captain T. Kirk” to explain the scar. That wasn’t nice. But I must say I’ve gotten good mileage out of it. For the record, I know you’re smarter than me, so that counts for something right?

MIKE: You’re a great-looking guy and everybody likes you. So I’m sorry that I tell everyone about your hairy back and that when you were young you stuck a toothpick up your nose to bring on a sneeze. Both of those things are just weird and a little gross. Oh, and I’m sorry I stole $20 from your mini-safe when we were teenagers. I must say, the combination lock really wasn’t very effective. I guess I’ll have to pay you back in Euros, mon frere!

It's Official...I'm Annoying

I’ve decided I am a really annoying person to share a work space with. Don’t get me wrong – I’m nice, I’m very neat, I shower, I speak softly (and carry a big stick!), and I don’t bring stinky food into the cube. But what IS annoying about me is the following:

- I curse. And damnit, I admit it. I’ll throw a charm-school-reject statement out there any day to vent my frustration. It isn’t very healthy, and I know my mother wouldn’t be proud (in fact, I’m sure she would say, “Now, now” very calmly).

- I like apples. I am a well-mannered chick, but for some reason I just can’t eat an apple quietly – and the sound is so distinctive! I think the description of eating an apple like a monkey is accurate, which is particularly annoying in a pin-drop-quiet office.

- I get up …frequently. I am a restless person to start with, and I happen to have a bladder that works well. Plus I often trip over my own flip flops while walking, which is even more disruptive.

- I brush my teeth after lunch. And these metal drawers that hold my dental delights make a LOT of noise (can’t some office products company sell something quieter?). Plus my toothbrush cover is way too big for my toothbrush, so it rattles around like a maraca. Ole!

- I keep a bowl of change and other sundries on my desk. Each day I scrounge through to scrape together $1.42 for a small… oh excuse me, tall…. Starbucks coffee. This activity produces the distinct sound of change swirling around hard plastic with thumb tacks, paper clips, staples, a squishy stress ball (those things make noise?), and a Dunkin’ Donuts gift card. That can’t be good.

- I laugh a lot. Out loud. Often for no discernable reason. In the dead silence, my hearty chuckle might seem a little out of place.

So the jury is in. It's official...I'm annoying.

(Funny) Apologies to My Friends

Heidi: The truth is you are just funnier than I am. So I’m sorry that I plan to steal some of your funny lines with hopes of passing them off as my own. I really want to use, “It rained so much I needed a snorkel”, but I just can’t find anyone to give me the right lead-in. I will work on that. And the fact that you want your cat to create a blog called “TAILS of My Ordinary Life” is priceless. Sorry, I’m stealing that one too.

Kim: I’m sorry I call you every day from work. But really – you’re home with twins and I KNOW you are home with twins. See, I love a break in the middle of the day. And, well, everyone else (no offense) is gainfully employed. It’s great - you tell me about, uh, playing with baby toys and I tell you about, uh, the exciting world of office products. That is reciprocity at its best!

And I’m sorry that anytime someone trips and falls, I call it “Pulling a Kim.” But seriously, what was up with you in late 2003???

Stacey: I’m sorry I don’t own any of the following: those weird giant yoga balls, that weird Reebok core trainer/skateboard thing you had, free weights, weights that cost money, flax seed, or a gym membership.

You’re a dietician and personal trainer, and I would love to include more of your passion into my life. I eat fairly well and stay somewhat fit. And for you that is good enough - I appreciate that. Oh, and I’m sorry I never *actually* did any of the strengthening exercises you set up for me (wow, that really took a lot of your time, huh?). That was sure nice of you.

Brooke: I’m sorry I tense up when you drive. But seriously, you have become a crazy driver in recent years! Really, I’m sitting right here – let ME find your cigarettes for you, let ME write out your shopping list, and let ME sift through the contents of your purse…because it is in the BACK seat! I’m happy to help.

Sandy: I’m sorry I have a slight crush on your rock-star fiancé. But he is really cute – I love the tattoos and sense of humor! But don’t worry, he doesn’t want me (I tried) and doesn’t feel we are meant to be together forever (I asked) and isn’t willing to run away with me to Morocco (I had to cancel the reservations). So I’m sorry about that. Really.

Emily: I’m sorry that we lost touch for a while, and I really should have put more effort into making sure you hadn’t (a) been institutionalized (b) been abducted, (c) run away with the circus, or (d) become a televangelist. I guess I just assumed everything was ok with you. So I’m sorry if any of those things did happen and you needed help.

My work friends: I’m sorry about the silly email. I really do try to keep it to a minimum! I work hard but get bored. I need outlets. I like to type. But would it KILL you to entertain me with your wit and insight periodically? You should all be flattered!

Oh…and I’m sorry that I still can’t eat with chopsticks and must ask for a fork when we eat sushi. That must be embarrassing for you.

Pigeon-Holed

For anyone who knows Heidi (as most people reading this should), you’ll be able to hear her voice and humor in this dialogue. Heidi is one of the funniest people I know and – though she surprises us at times - also one of the smartest. I have the good fortune to call her a close friend. This is a brief exchange we had in New York City a few summers ago. We had just checked into our hotel room (which, by the way, had screens on the windows – a crucial element to the story) and were heading out to dinner.

Heidi: “Meliss, you don’t think there will be pigeons in our room when we get back, do you?”

Melissa: “Uh, I’m sorry….WHAT? Why would there be pigeons in our room?”

Heidi: “Because in New York City hotels there are no screens on the windows. And we left the windows open. Now I’m scared there will be pigeons in the room!”

Melissa: “Heidi, I can ASSURE you there will be no pigeons in our room. And I can also ASSURE you we have screens on our windows. I think that is quite possibly THE DUMBEST QUESTION you have ever asked me!!!”

Heidi: “Oh…Hey Meliss?”

Melissa: “Yes Heidi?”

Heidi: “You don’t think there will be DINOSAURS in our room do you???”

I suppose in comparison, the first question really doesn't seem that dumb.

Free time

Many moons ago I taught middle school in Boston. One question that frequently arose was, “Can we have free time?” to which I tactfully responded some teacher-appropriate crap. But in hindsight, I think a better response would have been, “You need MORE free time?”

I don’t know what is going on these days. People so often complain about having too little “free” time. I, however, am quite the opposite – I have way too much!

My day starts early, I work full-time, I have a long commute, I eat meals, I chat with friends, I indulge myself in my hobbies and interests, I exercise, I have a social life. In short: I have good outlets for my time. Yet somehow, I’m always left with TOO much time on my hands.

But what’s the big deal with free time anyway? I have plenty of it, and I am no happier or more relaxed than the rest of the bunch. I’ve decided that people should be happy having LESS free time. It causes anxiety. And if you’re like me, you’ll just feel guilty for not volunteering at a soup kitchen, brokering world peace, or performing some noble humanitarian deed. So really, lack of free time is a blessing in disguise!

I think my noble humanitarian deed should be offering my free time to others. Then maybe everyone would be happy. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some daydreaming to do.

Simplicity

I don’t understand why everything is so complicated. In my mid-Summer quest for a bathing suit I found either fancy crazy ones in dumb patterns or, well, Pilgrim style with buckles. Now, why anyone in their right mind would want a bathing suit with a metal buckle is beyond me. Surely the part about metal heating up IN THE SUN escapes many purchasers of said suit. Maybe I’m just too simple, or society and fashion are advancing far beyond my capability to keep up with Joneses (who, by the way, probably live in a house with buckles by now).

I also don’t understand complications in other aspects of life. Take food, for example. What happened to the original Oreo? The original Garden Burger? The original Cheerio?

Now everything is so complicated. Everything has variations. A peanut butter version, a Southwest bean version, a frosted version. This gives me a headache! Now I appreciate technological advances and being beyond the Stone Age just as must as any other gay, 29-year-old, guitar–playing, Polish woman in America, but really. There are some things that are better off left alone. And I believe Oreos, Garden Burgers, and Cheerios are three great examples. Do we really need yogurt frosted anything?

And why in the world would you want to buckle up your bathing suit?