On Being A Flake

.1. This past weekend I was seated at dinner and flanked by three women who have all recently become mothers.

At one point in the evening, I was quietly zoning out eating dinner when one of the women decided to pretend that my earlobe was her nipple.

I was chatting with myself enjoying my chicken when she started to gently tug on my earlobe and explain “I think that this is the exact feeling of pumping for breast milk”.

Seriously.

So here’s the thing which is not going to be a surprise to any of you: I’m not really a mature person (e.g. I still laugh and blush when adults make the universal two-handed signal for “intercourse” but what they’re really talking about is the way the jack slides in and out of the door properly and I’m not really sure it’s a jack that slides and I’m not even really sure it’s into a door, but whatever…). My reaction was to choke on my chicken and almost have it come up through my nose, much like soda pop when I laugh and sip at the same time.

As I choked, none of the three MOTHERS OF THE UNIVERSE reacted or cared. I turned red as I, lone singleton, swatted at my earlobe. (It must be because my womb has not yet fulfilled it’s cosmic requirement.)

I showered as soon as I got home.

.2. We all know how I feel about futbol, so consider this ample warning that my blog will have many futbol references during the World Cup. I’ve already prepped everyone at work…thought it only fair to do the same here.

.3. I was recently speaking with a man about his children and asked him how many he had. When he responded with “three”, I was kind of just standing there zoning out and smiling at him. In quickity split fashion, I realized that ‘three’ queued a social requirement for me to respond. I smiled wide and firmly said “good number!”

”Good number!” At that moment, it felt like the most appropriate response and I was so proud of myself, I was in fact beaming.

I won't lie to you. The man looked at me funny before he walked away. But only after giving me a strange nod in acknowledgement of my flaky & enthusiastic Miss. Bright-Smile response. Am considering carrying pompoms for all future attempts at social interaction.

.4. I was recently in quite a rush – which is often, because I find that my mouth can’t keep up with my brain – and described myself as “self-defecating” instead of “self-deprecating”. I really shouldn’t have to tell you that was an accident, but for the record: It was.

.5. I’ve recently learned how to html a strikethrough and I am beyond myself with nerd happiness and satisfaction.