After a few minutes of polite chatting, my seat-mate has made it quite clear that she is done talking to me now.
Category Archives: Being Awkward/Dumb Stuff I Do
Things That, In Hindsight, Were Completely Unnecessary
My screaming “But HOW?!?? Just please, sir, tell me HOW!!!” to the perfectly friendly cab driver who dropped me off at the West Palm Airport and told me to “stay warm in New York!”
Lies I Tell So People Will Hate Me Less
That moment on a plane when you’re so embarrassed by your overactive bladder that you apologetically explain to the annoyed woman in the aisle seat, who is getting up for you for the 3rd time, that you’re pregnant.
You’re not pregnant. You just know that’ll make her sympathetic and less annoyed. And you’re right. It does.
What you don’t know is that this will incite an entire conversation about said make-believe fetus.
How far along am I? About 3 months. I know. It’s crazy, I’m barely showing. I’m sure that won’t last, especially with the aid of these nacho cheesier Doritos! (Woman cackles with laughter, seems less disgusted with my snack choice than she was previously).
The father? He’s amazing. Been married 3 years. He’s in Florida for business right now, so I’m meeting him at The Breakers. Yeah, I know. Ritzy. But the thing is, he, and therefore we, are richer than God. Sometimes we take baths in our dollars and I wear a bra made of diamonds. Don’t be fooled by the hole in this Old Navy hoodie I’m wearing. In public, I prefer to blend.
First child? No. We have toddler triplets. One boy and two conjoined girls. Yeah, that delivery was rough! (finish bag of Doritos, lick fingers, bust open the Toblerone).
Names? Haven’t decided yet. I like Coconut. Maybe Sunshine. Or Palm Tree. No, I’m not just naming things I’m excited to see in Florida.
Am I sure it’s ok to fly? I don’t know. Why? Is that a thing? Maybe that’s why my girls are conjoined…
Oh ok, cool. Now we’re done here.
(Note: nothing past the 4th paragraph actually happened. Except in my head. This is how I pass time on flights. It’s also the effects of Xanax).
Feeling Loved
Sometimes a girl’s gotta make herself feel like someone sent her flowers on Valentines Day.
Yes, they’re chocolate. Yes, they’re from the dollar store. Yes, they came in a plastic box that I cut myself trying to open. Yes, they’re from a 9 year old. Yes, that is a drinking glass. Yes, it’s a dirty drinking glass. Yes, I JUST finished drinking out of it.
STOP JUDGING ME!
My Finest Hour
That moment when you run out of tissues, toilet paper, Starbucks napkins and paper towels, so you’re forced to blow your ever-running nose into THIS cocktail napkin.
And yeah, I know. I too hope I don’t have to use the bathroom before morning.
Don’t Worry Guys…
…if there’s ever an emergency, I WILL die.
Let’s NOT Call a Spade a Spade
Yesterday I learned that the expression “let’s call a spade a spade” has racist undertones (check it out here at Wikipedia, source of all FACTS). I had NO idea. I use this phrase all the time– with friends, with my students, with myself (yeah, I talk to myself. Topic for another day).
Anyway, when I found out this phrase has racist origins, I FREAKED OUT. I immediately texted my friend Adam, who is a general knower of things, to see if he knew this. He didn’t. So that made me feel better. As did THIS reassurance:
Oh ok. Phew.
Pot. Kettle. Black.
This morning, after the gym I popped over to Starbucks and, in classic disheveled-A.D.D.-Emily style, left my keys on the coffee bar. I realized this once I got home, and ran back to Starbucks to get them. When I walked in, the barista was dangling my set of keys, laughing, and said: “Not your smartest move, huh?”
This from the guy who spelled my name like this:
Just sayin.
No One Ever Taught Me How to Prepare For a Disaster
Just now, at the wine store….
Cashier (who is clearly my best friend): “Ah, there you are, Emily! I was wondering when you’d be coming by to stock up for the blizzard!”
Me: “Hah, I got here as soon as I could– had to hit the grocery store first!”
Cashier (eyeing my huge grocery bag): “You get some crackers? Bread? Chips?”
Me: “No…”
Cashier: “Canned goods?”
Me: “Oh. No. Didn’t think of that.”
Cashier: “Bottles of water? Batteries?”
Me: “No…”
Cashier: “So what IS in that bag?”
Me: “Sixteen rolls of toilet paper. And a wedge of brie.”
#ThingsJewsNeed
My Avoidance Tactics Aren’t Fooling This 9-Year-Old
Kid: “Miss Emily, what’s inside a black hole?”
Me: “You know who knows a lot about black holes? My brother. He was an environmental studies major and is just generally obsessed with the idea of space and the universe.”
Kid: “Ok, well he’s not here, so can you just tell me?”
Me: “Well…”
Kid: “You don’t know the answer, do you?”
Me: “No I do not.”
Kid: “Ok. Next time you can just say that.”
Me: “Noted.”
Kid: “Also, maybe your BROTHER should be a teacher. It sounds like he knows things.”
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