I didn't know things like that happened in real life...

In my last post, I mentioned an incident wherein a would-be suitor showed up at my workplace four days before my wedding, and asked me to abandon my fiancée and take up with him instead. Truthfully, I hadn't thought about the episode in years, but several commenters indicated that they thought the story needed to be told here in its entirety. JD, suzicate, and Kathy , here ya go.

(Note: Names in this story will be changed to protect, well, me. I don't want the fellow in question to Google himself, find his name on my blog, and track me down.)

"Ben" was a co-worker at a crummy job where I made no money, but had a lot of fun with all of the other broke 20-somethings. He made me laugh, and we became "work friends," but I never considered dating him. After a while, Ben began inviting me to play (ahem) Dungeons & Dragons with him and his friends. When I told him that D&D really wasn't my thing, he set up a couple of group outings with some of our co-workers. Oddly enough, all the other people cancelled at the last minute, leaving me alone with Ben. I was annoyed about the deception, but too polite to just leave. On the second outing, Ben suggested that we walk around a small pond in the shopping center where we were supposed to meet our friends (danger! danger! romantic setting!!). Ben then proceeded to tell me that he was in love with me, while I fervently wished that I could just die on the spot. If you have never been in the position of being the recipient of an "I love you" that you have no intention of returning, consider yourself fortunate, because it is dreadful. I was still praying for death when Ben swooped in for a kiss, and I nearly tumbled into the pond, trying to back away. Most. Awkward. Moment. Ever. (And I have a double-major Awkwardness and Embarrassment, with a specialty in Public Humiliation.) Needless to say, I deployed the "I care about you as a friend" speech, posthaste. Ben told me that he wouldn't give up hope that I would change my mind someday. A couple of months later, he found another job, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Moved on with my life, which included meeting and falling in love with Mr. Nerd.

A little over a year later, Mr. Nerd and I are in the final stages of preparing for our wedding. I was sitting at work, about four days before the wedding, when the receptionist called to say that I had a visitor at the front desk. Not suspecting anything amiss, I opened the door to the reception area and nearly fell out when I saw Ben and Ed waiting. (Why did he bring his friend? That was weird, and I never thought about it until now.) Ed left us alone, and Ben said he had heard that I was getting married in a few days. When I told him that was true, he asked me to reconsider. Ben said that Mr. Nerd was probably a nice guy, but he could make me much happier if I would give him a chance. He also asked me if I was really sure that I was in love with Mr. Nerd.

Stunned? Incredulous? You have no idea. My love life had always been pretty lacking in drama, and now here I was, face-to-face with this odd guy who was asking me to abandon my fiancée DAYS before the wedding, and pick him instead. I think pre-wedding stress was the only thing that kept me from kind of flipping out. Those last couple of weeks before the wedding had been so exhausting that I was just too out of my mind to respond normally. I think all I could say was, "I love him very much, he makes me happy. I appreciate the gesture, but I am getting married this weekend." Turned around, walked back to my desk, explained what had just happened to the dear friend with whom I shared an office. And then freaked out a little.

Looking back on it nearly 14 years later, I guess it was a little flattering to have a guy make a Grand Gesture for my sake. Please don't get the idea that I was some kind of temptress leaving a trail of broken-hearted Bens in my wake, though. He was 26, and probably had not had much attention from girls. I just happened to be the one who was nice to him. Since I had been on the opposite side of many (MANY) such unrequited crushes, I really hated the thought of hurting his feelings. When things like that happen in the movies, it seems all dashing and romantic, but I was kind of mortified by the whole thing. I don't know, maybe it only works if the Grand Gesture is followed by a bus ride with Dustin Hoffman.

(awkward t-shirt comes from here)

A very strange kind of day

Do you ever have days that are just...odd? I'm not talking paranormal-weird or anything, just a little off. Well, I had one of those days today. Here are a few of the episodes that made me feel like I might be stuck in an episode of The Twilight Zone.

The phone calls
Let me begin by noting that I answer the phone all day long, every day, so I am no stranger to weird phone calls. This morning, I spoke to two different callers, about two completely different situations. I did my best to help each caller, so I thought that was the end of that. This afternoon, though, each of those people called me again...and, again, went through their entire spiel, in conversations identical to those we had had this morning. Here's the strange thing: They had no idea that they were speaking to the same person they spoke to earlier in the day. I would be willing to believe that my customer service had been somewhat underwhelming, but I usually try to be helpful and treat callers the way I would like to be treated. (Golden Rule and all, you know.) So, two people just completely forgot me. I watch a lot of science fiction, and I was beginning to wonder about parallel universes and rifts in the space-time continuum and whatnot. Weird.

The elevator
I was on an elevator, going from the 5th floor to the 11th. You know how you forget to push the floor button sometimes? I know I pushed the button, because it lit up. I promise! But the elevator didn't stop on my floor. It went all the way to the top of the building, shimmying and shaking like it was about two seconds away from a reeealllly fast trip to the basement. (My primary thought at that moment? Oh no, I have my new boots on! How's that for having your priorities straight?) Of course, I felt it necessary to explain to the lady who then boarded the elevator that I had actually pushed the button. She gave me one of those "sure, of course you did, dear" kind of looks. Weird, and a tad embarrassing.

The mystery visitor
The organization where I work is spread out over several buildings. This morning, I got a call from the security desk at one of the nearby buildings; a gentleman was there looking for me, and they were going to send him my way. I'm an administrative assistant, so it's pretty unusual for someone to be looking for me specifically. I have to confess to a bit of panic, because the first person who came to mind was one of my former co-workers. He liked me, I didn't feel the same, he left the company, and I thought no more of him. Until he turned up at the reception desk, four days before my wedding, to tell me that he was in love with me and would like for me to call off my wedding and give our relationship a chance. Can you see why I was unnerved? I was on pins and needles for the ten minutes or so that it took my visitor to find me. But it wasn't him after all. It was a perfectly nice and friendly fellow, with a legitimate work question for me. Whew. Could have been weird (boy howdy, could it have been weird), but it wasn't.

After a day like this, it was a great relief to come home, where everything is normal. How about you? Have you had an odd day lately?

photo came from here

Four whole days!

I have a four-day weekend, and I am so excited about it! Here's what I'm going to do:

1. Sleep in
I saw another doctor this week (#3 in the Great Shoulder Adventure, in case you're interested). He noted my bag-eyed state, took pity on me...and prescribed something to help me sleep. I'm trying the new med for the first time tonight. All fingers are crossed.

 

2. Make a purse

Honestly, I have kind of a love/hate relationship with sewing. You've heard "measure twice, cut once"? I usually measure four or five times, cut wrong, try not to swear, cry for a while, then make sure I have enough fabric to start it all again. Sometimes I have to just scrap the whole thing. But I found some really cool UK fabric on sale, and I hope to make a quilted purse to sell online. I've made several of these purses already, but that's no guarantee I will be able to do do it again.

 

3. Read 

You probably can't tell from my crummy photo, but this is my favorite reading spot. With my softest, warmest fleece throw, and two excellent Inspector Morse books from the library. I can't wait to curl up here for a few hours.

 

4. Nap

My favorite reading spot is also a good place to nap--especially if there is a warm puppy to cuddle. Sometimes they get tired of waiting for me, and just take over my napping spot for themselves.

 

5. Just running a little errand, no big deal

Uh oh. Patches just found out he has to go to the V-E-T tomorrow for some blood work. Looks like he has taken refuge under the bed. Don't worry, little guy! It's just a tiny poke.

So, those are my big plans. There is a chance that numbers 2 and 3 may take a backseat to number 4. How about you? What are you doing this weekend?

 

Minutes of the previous meeting of the dogs

In attendance: Sebastian, Patches, and Abby
Agenda: Discuss the progress of the new initiatives to drive our mom crazy

Sebastian: Okay, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to meet today.

Patches: As if we would be doing anything else. We can’t drive, after all.

Abby: I think I saw a squirrel. Did you guys see a squirrel?

Sebastian: Let’s try to stay focused, so we can get through the agenda. Abby, how are you doing on your assignment?

Abby: I would say I’m making excellent progress. I don't know if it's the cold weather or what, but poop seems much tastier lately. I’ve been eating some every time I go outside.

Sebastian: Excellent! That definitely drives Mama crazy. She hates it when you eat poop. Patches, how about your assignments?

Patches: Well, I have been trying to rile up the neighbor dogs as much as possible, and they’re responding really well. The melting snow has been an added bonus, since all of our barking areas are super-muddy right now.

Sebastian: Are you making sure to bring in lots of little mud balls on your feet? So that they get ground into the carpet?

Patches: Absolutely. It took Mama 45 minutes to clean up all the mud last night. She had to mop the kitchen floor, too-twice.

Sebastian: Good, good. She should be getting close to the edge by now. For my part, I’ve been attempting to snatch Mama’s food off the table and counter whenever possible—I nearly got those fried pickles last week! I’ve also been contributing to the barking effort as much as I can.

Patches: I almost forgot! Two mornings last week I ate barf out in the yard, and then came inside and immediately yakked up my WHOLE breakfast. That really seemed to make a big impact on our mom—she went nuts.

Abby: Nuts? Did you see the squirrel?!

Sebastian: Mama is right, Abby—you really do have doggie ADD. So, for next week, I think we should all keep working on our current projects. Patches, can you also try to make sure you dump all of our toys out of the basket every day? Mama hates that.

Patches: Yeah, yeah…I’m on it. Can I take a nap now? I haven’t had a nap in at least an hour.

Sebastian: You are truly the laziest dog ever. Abby, be sure to continue with the poop-eating, and watch for birds that you can kill. You’re really good at that, and Mama hates to pick up their little carcasses.

Abby: No problem. I will eat as much poo as possible, and be on the lookout for birds. I love this project!

Sebastian: Okay, remember our primary objective here: If we can drive Mama crazy, she won’t be able to go to that "work" place anymore. Then, she can stay home with us all day! This meeting is adjourned.

The worst of the words

After reading Kathy’s post about her sister Maureen’s “list of words, phrases or topics that are either prohibited or encouraged in her lunch room at work,” I decided it was time for me to go public with my own (and my sister’s) word-phobia. My sister Melissa and I have been compiling a “forbidden words” list for as long as I can remember, with new terms added all the time. They include:

supple
pus
bulbous
bud (this one is Melissa’s; I’m not really too troubled by it)
mucus
rupture (It’s usually associated with something that sounds horribly painful.)
sac
tongue (I know, I’m really weird! I can’t help it.)
nasal

And the worst offenders:

moist (bleegggh! This was on Kathy’s sister’s list as well)

and (I can hardly bear to type it)

panties
Ewewewewew!!! I just can’t bear it. What, may I ask, is wrong with “underpants?” It’s a perfectly good word, and provides a very accurate description of what the item does. It goes under your pants. Or call them “underwear” or even “drawers” or “bloomers.” I don’t really care what other term we come up with for them, I just think that that word should just be stricken from the English language forever. Ew.

I can’t speak for my sister on this, but I also have a really difficult time with body part words. For instance, if I ever had to say the word “penis“ in front of another living human being? I would just fall over and die on the spot. In fact, just typing it, all alone in my living room, has made me blush furiously. I understand that these words may need to be used for medical purposes, so they can’t be stricken from the language, but just don’t expect me to say them. Ever. If something goes awry with one of the body parts that I am unable to speak of, I’ll just have to write the doctor a note or draw a cartoon or something. Or, you know, maybe just go ahead and expire from whatever the ailment is, since I will want to anyway once the doctor says any of those words to me. I feel a little faint just thinking about it.

So, do you have any prohibited words? Leave them in the comments! I always thought that this was something particular to my family, but apparently there are a lot of us out there.

My sanity's in Jeopardy

Tomorrow night, I will make my sixth attempt to win a spot as a contestant on a game show. At this point, steely determination has been replaced by weary resignation, but I am still maintaining a tiny shred of hope. You won’t find me blogging, Facebooking, or checking email at 8:00 p.m, like I do most weekday evenings. Instead, I will be sweatily staring at my laptop screen, trying to make the dogs leave-me-alone-already-for-goodness-sake-don’t-you-have-toys-or-something?, and searching every corner of my poor wee brain for information about South American lakes and the name of President Hoover’s dog.

As far back as I can remember, I have wanted to compete on a game show. When I was a little girl, I used beg my grandmother to let me be on The Price is Right. (I was not mollified by her explanation that it was filmed in California, and we were in Kentucky, and I was not, at four, really the appropriate age to be a contestant.) As a trivia-loving nerd, I’ve always wanted to have the chance to embarrass myself on Jeopardy, but Kentucky is not very high on the list of audition sites for most game shows. So, I resigned myself to watching (and yelling answers at the TV) at home.

But then Who Wants to be a Millionaire exploded, and suddenly game show audition opportunities were popping up everywhere. Like Louisville, which is a very doable hour-long drive from where I live! The Weakest Link was holding tryouts, and my aunt K and I decided to head on over and check it out. (Unfortunately, we got stuck in traffic and were running late, so she ended up parking the car instead of going into the audition. I felt terrible.) After an exhausting, day-long tryout process, I was told that I had passed all of the tests, including the mock game, and that I might receive a call to compete in the next six months. About two months later, the show was canceled. So much for my shot at being publicly humiliated by Anne Robinson! (In retrospect, it was for the best, since I probably would have burst into tears when she yelled at me.) A couple of years later, K and I were delighted to hear that the Jeopardy folks would be making a stop in Lexington…and we could take the test! We waited in a loooooong line in a car-dealership parking lot, and took turns assuring each other that—really!-- we would be perfectly fine if only one of us passed the test. When the moment of truth arrived, we learned that we had both failed. Yet another disappointment for the game-show wannabees.

In recent years, Jeopardy got smart, and realized that they could increase their contestant pool exponentially if they would offer online tests. I have participated in the past four test cycles, spending the nerve-wracking, hive-inducing half-hour test time blanking on answers in all of the categories I know the least about (Geography, Art, Sports, and US Presidents, in case anyone is interested). To prevent cheating, you don’t find out how many questions you answered correctly—you only receive notification if you pass the test, and are chosen at random to attend an audition. I kept track of my answers last time, though, and I know I missed at least 25. Out of 50. People, this test is a killer. So, you can see why I’m not getting my hopes up too much. But maybe, just maybe, the test categories will fall my way. Maybe I’ll be dealing with questions about pop culture, 80s music, food, celebrities, fashion, TV, shoes…you know, the things I actually know something about. Wish me luck! You’ll be the first to hear if I get called to Chicago to film an audition.

The little Whammy guy came from here.

It's hard to believe I haven't broken my head yet

Do you ever feel like you're having a "clumsy day?" For instance, the other morning in the shower, I managed to drop my shampoo bottle, conditioner tube, AND razor. A clumsy day.

Except that I wasn't just having a clumsy day. I have a clumsy LIFE…and it's all the time. I fall off curbs, walk into walls, bump my knees and elbows, and hit my head with alarming frequency, so I'm always a mass of bruises. At least twice a week, I burn some part of my forehead, neck or ears with a flat iron, so I'm usually sporting a visible scorch mark. Thankfully, my clumsiness doesn't result in any sort of major injury, at least most of the time. I have done a few unbelievably klutzy things in my life, though. And, since I'm running low on blogging material this week, why not trot out some (more) of my embarrassing tendencies for public consumption? Here, in no particular order, is a little rundown of the more memorable episodes.

-Caught my foot on a parking-barrier rope while trying to jump it…on a dare. Resulted in a really gross rope burn and a moderately sprained right ankle.
-Slipped in beer spilled on a bar dance floor and twisted my right ankle; continued to dance on it, totally oblivious, for the remainder of the evening. Got home, took off my shoe, and burst into tears when I saw the ankle. Resulted in a severe sprain, two weeks on crutches, and several months to full recovery.
 -Jumped up from my desk chair, where I had been sitting on my foot, too quickly. Got my foot caught up in my skirt and fell. Resulted in (yet another) ankle sprain. To make things even more fun, this happened on my first day at a new job. I was too embarrassed to tell anyone, so I suffered all day in silence.
-Stepped in a hole, while carrying two 22-pound bags of ice. Resulted in a broken ankle (clearly, I'm not doing any ice skating on these ankles. They're probably weaker than matchsticks), three weeks on crutches, and two months of physical therapy.
-Tripped and rolled down that little slope-y bit of a friend's driveway. Resulted in two skinned knees and the ruination of a brand-new pair of jeans.
-Tumbled off an ex-boyfriend's back porch. Resulted in damaged cartilage and a big fluid pocket on one knee.
-Slipped and fell in the shower, after a too-liberal application of Clean Shower spray. Resulted in some kind of injury to my tailbone region that left me in tears for two days. (That's pretty rare. Even the broken ankle didn't make me cry.)
-Slipped on the curb after an ice storm and fell under my car. Resulted in a huge bruise on my hip/thigh that took about two months to heal, and a determination to find a house with an attached garage.
-Attempted to poke the lawn sprinkler in the drought-stricken back yard; felt a pop in my shoulder. Resulted in a torn tendon and ligament, five months of physical therapy, and an ongoing, (seemingly) endless series of sleepless nights.

See? Told you I was clumsy. Please keep in mind that all of these things happened to me as an adult. If I had included all of the moronic, where-was-your-brain clumsy things I did as a kid, this list would have been four times as long! So, how about you? Are you a klutz like me, or one of those lucky souls who seem to glide through life on a cloud of grace and fairy dust?





(Clumsy Smurf courtesy of bluebuddies.com)