I'm very skilled at saying the wrong thing...

Another week's writing workshop from Mama Kat.  This week I chose to go with Prompt 5.) Describe a moment when you put your foot in your mouth.

There really are so many options for me to choose from in my life.  I have a tendency to simply say whatever pops into my head at any given moment.  The lovely censor that most of us possess, the one that says, "Uh...wait, you really don't want to call your friend a filthy bastard" tends to sporadically disappear within the confines of my brain, leaving me to say whatever I want.  Sometimes it's good, but usually it's just an UH-OH.

It's mostly prevelant when I'm upset about something.  Of course, I think that's when most of us are at our most vulnerable when it comes to what we say.  There's a reason the saying "walk away before (I) say something (I) regret" exists.

I was no different the day this story occurred.  Luckily, it happened with friends who know me, which makes it a bit easier if not a tad more humiliating (as years later it still comes up in conversation).

I used to be a supervisor in a bank.  Despite all of the issues I had with the place, I left with some great friends.  One of my friends, Jason, was this really cool, adorable African American dude working to support his girllfriend and baby-on-the-way.   I added the race information because it comes into play, not because I walked around like the guy from the Office saying horrible things like, "This is my black friend, Jason." 

Jason and I often had long discussions while he was working in drive-thru and I was doing my supervisory stuff in my "office" near drive-thru.  We hung out outside of work, my mom often cooked him dinner (where he was such a suck up, always complimenting her and encouraging her to make her strange concoctions, which she tried to pass off as stew), and I have never had any ill-will towards Jay.  I wish all guys bould be like him for he is awesome.

And that's actually how this foot-in-the-mouth moment came.  I was having major issues with my boyfriend of the time, who had decided the best answer to his cheating on me was for us to get married.  I'm not sure how he made that leap, but I've decided to blame it on his Republicanism (sorry to any sane Republicans left out there).  I was explaining the latest conversation I had with the boyfriend the night before to Jay because he was so sweet and great with his girlfriend and surely knew what was wrong with this lunatic I dated (outside insane as an answer).  By the end of the conversation, which was mostly me talking to him about how evil the boyfriend was rather than an actual back-and-forth conversation, I was so worked up (as I am prone to do as a true drama queen) that I threw my hands up in the air and said very loudly, "I hate your race!" 

Jay looked at me with a bemused look.  For a second, I was like, "All men stick together..." inner voice drifting away as realization hit and replaced everything with "OhmygodwhatdidIjustsay!"

I turned bright red, reached for his hand and started repeating over and over, "Gender.  Gender!   I meant gender!" 

Jay and another co-worker started to laugh hysterically because I was so appalled with myself.  Continuing in my drama-queen-fashion, I managed to spend the rest of the day bemoaning my own idiocy and becoming that white girl who is like, "I'm not racist, I totally know black people and stuff" and that's never good.

Fun times.  Sadly, for a foot-in-the-mouth moment, it does make me smile.  Not about my inner Rush Limbaugh fighting to escape (EW!), but how well Jay knew me and how he totally didn't blink an eye.  We're not as close as we once were seeing as life happens, his baby was born and we all moved onto other places, but I have these great memories of our friendship and the random laughter (usually at my expense) that ensued.

life is a learning experience...

My response to this week's writer's workshop at Sleep is for the Weak.  I chose prompt # 3:  What new skill would you love to learn, or have you learnt something new recently that you can share with us?

I think about this sort of thing a lot lately.  It was a big thing right after the movie, The Bucket List, came out - accomplishing all those things we put off, but really want to do.  I created a life list.  But it fell into the background like things tend to do when I'm busy, crazy, and lazy.  A strange combination, but a perpetual state for me at times. 

And then my mother passed away unexpectedly last year.  She was awake at night, talking to me about random stuff, and the next morning she was dead.  No warning, no nothing.  And part of my whole grieving process has been a sadness for her because I know she didn't accomplish all that she wanted.  Logically, I know that most of us will never accomplish everything we want.  We aren't granted the infinite amount of time to conquer the dreams our minds can think up.  But we can do some of it.  We can make ourselves happy and try new things and live each day like it's the last.

Over the past six months, my life list has come back to forefront of things.  I've started being more open and more courageous and mostly, more willing to fail.  It's part of why I never did number eight on my life list - learn the guitar - because I was afraid I'd be so bad.  It's funny this prompt appears now when I'm in the midst of what I've been calling my "year of me." A time to focus on myself and not feel bad about it, a time to learn who I am and who I want to be and the journey to get from here to there.  The chance to start learning all those things I've always put off for another day.

One thing I still want to learn:  I have not conquered number eight - learn the guitar yet.  I really do want to learn how to play.

One thing I've learned recently that I can share:  there are no guarantees in life and we only get one chance at this thing - might as well be happy while we're at it.

a letter to a reality star who will likely never see this...

My response to this week's Mama Kat's writing prompts.  I went with prompt # 2: Write a letter to a reality star of your choice.  This was quite an easy choice for me.  I thought it would be harder as I do love quite a few reality shows (guilty pleasure out the wazoo!), but I decided to go with the first person who popped into my head.  And I'm glad that I did.



**

Dear Tori Spelling:


I have to admit that I prejudged you and hated you solely based on the character of Donna Martin from 90210 for a very long time. Don’t get me wrong. I watched and chanted “Donna Martin graduates!” right along with the rest of my obsessed teenage friends, but I really hated your character and was unable to distinguish you from Donna. I wish I could tell you that I’ve grown up a lot since then, no longer a teenager who can’t see past the role, but between you and me, the only reason I like Rob Pattison is because he’s Edward Cullen. It’s like the opposite of how I felt about you, except now I’m in my thirties and I just seem demented.

I’ll also admit to being one of the people who thought you only got the role (and subsequent Lifetime movie roles that either annoyed me or made me laugh) because your father was Aaron Spelling. I figured it was so easy for you and couldn’t care less when Donna Martin, and you in a way, finally went away from my television screen. I felt, irrationally, that you deserved it. I also felt, less irrationally, that I was quite sick of 90210 after a billion seasons and it was time for it to go away. There is only so long I can pretend to care about Dylan McKay’s sideburns.

I say all of this to apologize because I think you are awesome and if it weren’t for your reality show with your husband, I would never have known this. I’ve read both your books. I love Stori Telling because it just felt like a conversation you were having with the reader. I enjoyed Mommywood, even though I’m not a mother and have no interest in such mother-type things. And, of course, I watch your show whenever it’s on, whether I’ve already seen it or not, to a point where my friends who have known me a long time say things like, “I thought you hated her?” I have to go into this lengthy explanation of how I was wrong and who knew such a thing was even possible??? While I know the books and the show only represent a portion of who you are, I think it does prove that you are a very cool lady. You’re snarky, don’t take yourself too seriously, love shopping, and just keep trying to be who you are despite how everyone judges you. In fact, you and your friends remind me of me and my friends when we get together. It’s just a different backdrop and sadly, I can’t afford the very awesome purses and shoes that you get.

Anyway, this was sort of an apology-slash-you’re-awesome letter. And I’m sorry your mother is buckets of crazy. If it’s any consolation, I think all parents are buckets of crazy to some extent. I mean, my mother was obsessed with reading cookbooks but never cooking, and while I was little when my dad died, he was overly into sports to the point that he would scream at the television when *golf* was on. I mean, really, golf?

Your fan,

Mare

P.S. – How crazy is Shannen Doherty for real? Your book spoke a little bit to what she was like in the 90210 days, but I’d hate to misjudge her too as crazykakes unnecessarily. Honestly, I just want the dirt.

Writing Workshop: Those We Leave Behind

http://www.sleepisfortheweak.org.uk/2010/03/18/writing-workshop-its-over-to-you/

Prompt # 1: 1. Tell me about someone from you past who you lost touch with and who you often think about

My father died when I was eleven years old and I’ve always felt like, in a lot of ways, it was this huge defining moment in my life. Not just for the obvious reasons, but for the way that I managed to insulate myself away from most people. I went from being very outgoing, taking everyone in and trusting, to much more closed off. I’m a hard girl to get to know. I’ll let a person see glimpses and if I really like you, maybe I’ll give you about 75% of who I am, but it’s so hard for me to be 100% open with people. Over the years I’ve become gifted at keeping people at a distance. I’ve got an uncanny knack for losing touch with people, and for no real reason in most cases.

I still remember right before my father died, my mother took me and my sister, separately, to talk with our neighbor-slash-therapist about how we were feeling about our dad dying. I still very clearly remember saying, “What scares me most is losing everyone else in my life.” And I feel like, to a certain degree, that is what happened. Or at least my perception of it, especially when I was younger. I went from feeling like part of a crazy-but-together family with siblings and cousins and lots of friends hanging about, to thinking that I could only count on myself. That other people left and that was just how it was.

And when I read this prompt, I immediately thought about that. And how, when I was eleven it might not have been in my control to try to maintain those relationships, but as an adult, I can try. I just have to get over that fear, and that pretense I keep that it’s better to only count on yourself.