Sometimes you have to whip out your phone and pretend-talk into it to avoid a sidewalk encounter with your former boss and that does NOT make you a child.
Category Archives: Being Awkward/Dumb Stuff I Do
Hazards You Didn’t Know Were Hazards
Did you know that if you accidentally shoot yourself in the eye with a waterpik on full blast, you will pop blood vessels?
What’s that? No? Because why would that ever happen to you? Because you’d never press the “on” button before putting the device in your mouth, particularly if it’s pointed at your eyeball? Because who points a waterpik at their eyeball? Because you pay attention to the things you do as you’re doing them? Because you’re generally able to complete daily life tasks without risking your life? Because even a monkey can use a waterpik without injury, and you’re smarter than a monkey?
Well HOW NICE FOR YOU.
L’Shana Tova!
I already blew it.
Playing the Long Con
When/if I am pregnant one day, no one will be able to tell, because my daily life-long M.O. is already to be tired, nauseated, moody, and dressed in a shapeless sack.
And that’s been my plan all along.
I Guess the Dancer Has a Side Job
Me: “Hey, what’s that dancer from Dancing with the Stars doing on the football channel!?”
Eric: “That’s Von Miller.”
Like a Robot
There is an old cantankerous man who lives in our building, and every time he walks into the elevator and sees me on my phone (which is always), he makes a snide comment about it. Normally I just smile awkwardly and sort of ignore, but today I decided to defend myself.
Old man: “Those things are ruining people. Nobody talks to each other anymore.”
Me: “Yes, you always say that to me.”
Old man: “Well, it’s true. How’s anyone supposed to meet if they’re always looking at their phone?”
Me: “Actually, I met my husband on my phone.”
Old man: “You mean you were talking on the phone when you met him?”
Me: “No, I literally found him BECAUSE OF my phone. I was in an elevator like this one, and instead of talking to people around me, I was scrolling through a dating app. I came across his profile, read it, and I liked it, so I connected with him and we started talking.”
Old man: “I see…”
Me: “Right, so, if I hadn’t been looking at my phone, if I had been talking to people around me instead, as you always say I should be doing, then I wouldn’t have found my husband.”
Old man (long pause): “Well, young lady, I guess that’s a good point.”
Me (smiling, resisting the urge to literally pat myself on the back): “Thank you.”
(We both step out of the elevator and into the lobby)
Doorman: “Hey there, Eddie!”
Old man: “The whole world’s gone to shit. This girl met her husband INSIDE A PHONE! Like a ROBOT!”
Doesn’t Everyone?
Friend: “OH MY GOD YOU EVEN SWEAT IN EMOJIS!”
Note: This was after an 8 mile run**
**Not actually relevant. Sometimes I wake up like this.
I’m 35
That weird moment when you realize that drinking while getting ready might be a thing everyone else outgrew once college ended.
Conditions for Eloquence
I gave a speech at a friend’s rehearsal dinner last weekend and someone came up to me after and said, “You are an extremely eloquent speaker.” And it got me thinking, you know what, yeah, person I don’t know at all but who is now my new best friend, when it comes to verbal communication, I am extremely eloquent!
….as long as I have an entire 16-size-font, double spaced script in front of me (rehearsed for a minimum of three weeks and approved by no less than five trusted individuals), have at least one glass of wine but no more than three in my system, I am not interrupted once, it’s neither too hot nor too cold in the room, there are zero weird noises, no one looks at me funny, I’m not hungry, the lighting is friendly, I am feeling good about my outfit, my acne is under control, I’m not PMSing, and I remembered to take my Prozac.
Otherwise when I talk it’s this:
Donna Chang
Me: “With everything going on in our country right now, I’m honestly just so horrified and saddened as a human in general– but as a Jew in particular, as I know you can relate–”
Therapist: “Oh I’m actually not Jewish.”
Me: “You’re NOT?! But your last name–”
Therapist: “I know. A common Jewish last name. People often assume I am Jewish.”
Me: “But I feel like I’ve had all these insider only-jews-would-get-this kind of exchanges with you.”
Therapist: “Hmm. I didn’t interpret them that way.”
Me: (silence)
Therapist: “What are you thinking?”
Me: “Oh, oh nothing. This obviously doesn’t change anything.”
I just have to re-think every piece of advice you’ve ever given me.
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