Confessions of the Awkward Girl

Alright, lettuce get real. It’s thyme for the truth to be told. Kale it overdue, but I’ll give it a go.  It won’t take mushroom, but there is a small margarine for error. So I hope you don’t think me radicchiolous because I need to get this off my cress.

I’m kinda awkward. No, seriously…awkward.

I spend my social time trying to remember the cues that I’ve learned over the  years. My high school ROTC Mom told me that when I don’t smile, I look like a total bitch (ok, she didn’t say that word, exactly, but I knew what she meant.), so I smile a lot. And I know that I need to make eye contact and shouldn’t stare at the ground when I walk.

And yet, I still have that same old freak out anytime I need to be social. Take walking in the hallway at school. I know I need to make eye contact and smile when I see a colleague.

:shuffle, shuffle:

Okay, here they come. Steady, steady.. don’t stare at them. Avoid eye contact until jusssttt abouttt…. NOW

“HI!” Phew, that was a close one. Next time, start with the eyes at up higher… you look like you just checked him out. Cripes.

I was invited to a Labor Day party this afternoon. Well, with The Fiance out of town, I had a panic attack and declined. Seriously.  I’m not afraid of new places. I’m afraid of people!  What if I didn’t know anyone besides the hostess??  I don’t chit-chat.

Chit-chat. I don’t know how to do it. I try and channel my mother anytime I need to talk with people I don’t really know. WWDD- What Would Debbie Do? After years of watching my ma, I know to ask questions…

“So, um… how’s your dog?”  Yes, good…dogs. Everyone likes dogs.

“Oh… did they stop?” Oh crap.

“Er… well, at least you had a few years with him, right?” Oh geez, oh geez, oh geez.

“Oh… your dying father’s gift to you… oh.. yeah, I guess that would be tough…”  Ohhh man..

“I..um…how’s the weather?”  Yes, weather…good.

So why am I spending my afternoon watching Dance Moms (second time I’ve seen this episode today, by the way) and eating stale Fruitty Rings?  Because my dog doesn’t mind how awkward I am. After all, she’s a pug.  She’s pretty awkward herself.