You learn a lot about yourself when you are sitting in the “women’s waiting room” with a bunch of women old enough to be your grandma and all of you are wearing only a hospital gown. Watching us all get ushered in and back one by one to get or breasts origamied in the mammography machine. So many looks exchanged wondering if each was here for just the annual or if there was a darker reason for it. No one wanting to ask.

I did not get my favorite tech, but I did get an awesome one. She had a thick Minnesotan accent and understood that humor is my defense mechanism. She asked me about Furiously Happy: A Funny Book About Horrible Things. I told her how great it is and how Jenny Lawson‘s first book made me laugh so hard that I peed my pants. She said that sounded like her kind of book. Then, during the most bizarre and uncomfortable pose I have ever struck in my life, I said “Well, this is it. This is going to be my Christmas card this year.” She LOST it. Tears down her face. It was fun. Then she told me I should write a book.

While she was rearranging my boob on a cold, plastic slate.

Life is a strange, funny, wonderful ride. Even when it’s scary and awkward, a momentary connection or genuine laughter is right around the corner.

I hope you all had a wonderful day today! <3

Feb 28, 2011

Dear Mr. Hipster in MiniVan That Decided Stop Signs STILL Don’t Apply to Him,

It’s very sweet that you clearly have a desire to ram your large vehicle into me. Most men would start with dinner, but not you. You go the extra 30 mph, throw caution to the wind and laugh in the face of traffic signs just to get to me. As we begun our usual dance of me blaring my horn at you and you lifting your Starbucks Venti Whatever to salute me, don’t think I didn’t notice that this time you added a wink. And the smirk when lilest rolled down the window and screamed “I KNOW HOW TO SPELL CREEP NOW YOU BIG ILLITERATE JERK!!” was oh so charming. Well until it turned to confusion when eldest rolled hers down and said “YOU DON’T EVEN NEED TO BE ABLE TO READ!! THE SHAPE AND COLOR IS UNIVERSAL FOR A REASON!! YOU MUST HAVE CHEATED ON THE TEST!!!”

But, my favorite look of yours was the sweet look of slight terror when we followed you to your house and all honked, smiled and waved. Yes, we now know exactly where you live. So, I’ll stop by and say hi when I want to see you again. No one likes a pushy guy. Play a little hard to get from now on please.

Or else. My YOU KNOW WHY is soooooo ready.

<3,
Me

P.S. Your stupid soul patch is still crooked. Only now in the other direction. That takes talent.

Feb 1, 2011

Dear Mr. Hipster in MiniVan That Decided Stop Signs Don’t Apply to Him,

Thanks for making me have to slam on my breaks & almost donut. That was super fun. I’ve been meaning to become better acquainted with that ditch. I’m sorry I missed the memo that going “cheers” with your Starbuck’s Venti at someone you could have killed meant “I’m sorry.” Hopefully my finger didn’t throw you off. I also apologize for lilest yelling “WE DON’T HAVE A STOP SIGN, YOU DO YOU CREEPOID!!! EVEN I CAN READ STOP!! S-T-O-P YOU (mommy how do you spell creep!?!?)!!!!!!” Kids these days. Hope you have a swell day!

<3,
Me

P.S. As I am aware of the fact you live in my subdivision, you may want to pick up a protective cup. YOU KNOW WHY!

P.P.S. Your stupid soul patch is crooked. I know, straight lines are tough.

Approximately 13 minutes into third period, Mr. C’s accelerated chemistry class knew I was wearing red and black plaid bikini underwear. Yup. Good times. I was proudly perched on my lab stool eagerly ready to learn when he began demonstrating the lesson. As soon as the smell hit me… thunk. That was the day I found out I was allergic to ammonia. And that my face is capable of turning the exact shade of red in that damn plaid underwear. It took until fifth period for news of my underwear sighting to properly reach the whole school. It took until winter before I would wear a short skirt again. With tights. THICK ONES.

Even a nerdy science girl gets that panty peekage as grand as that doesn’t happen every day. Laughter I expected. Laughter from those I thought were friends I did not. And I’m not talking in that laughing with you way cuz hello at that age there is a certain acceptable grieving period one must go through on such an epic incident of embarrassment before one can laugh at one’s self. Two periods didn’t quite cut that. Rumors blindsided me even more. You see, despite the red face, restricted airway and eyes swollen and watering for hours after, I had staged it you know. I was basically just an attention-seeking whore. Two terms that couldn’t be further from the truth. And you didn’t even really need to know me to know that just wasn’t who I was. People are odd creatures. They remind me of those lil Russian stacking dolls. You never know what you’re going to get when you lift the face off the top one. Sometimes all the ones inside are exactly the same, other times they are drastically different. You never truly know what the other faces will look like. Until it’s too late.

It’s Spring Cleaning time for me. I’m definitely not one of those people that takes great joy in cleaning. Don’t try to eat off my floor, I wouldn’t advise it. And yeah, still no ammonia based cleaners for me. This year, I’ve done things differently. I’ve decided to start Spring Cleaning my LIFE before my home. Ok, for a fleeting moment there was a small part of me that thought it would be a great diversionary tactic to avoid the tedious scrubbing of my physical surroundings. My gut and my heart knew it would actually be much more difficult. Truthfully though, Life had already begun to show me the necessity for it over the past two weeks and for once I wasn’t too stubborn to listen.

I started with myself and a simple question- am I happy? Then tackled the unpleasantries- who am I? Where am I going? How do I propose I am going to get there? What makes me happy?

Honestly, I was pretty proud of how I was working through all of it so quickly and comfortably. That should have been my first red flag. Then Life, that twisted lil skamp, started flipping the heads off the Russian dolls in my life. Two dolls in I knew I needed to switch gears and pull some off myself. Or gut check and make my best educated guess at what truly lay beneath. Which sucked. Hard. But I did it. I purged what I determined to be the false, the negative, the energy suckers, the constantly need ego strokingers. I thought I had gotten them all. The fact that I thought that and I worked through it rather comfortably as well should have been the sign the freakin’ apocalypse was coming. And not the fun zombie kind either.

For about a day I felt I had emerged from my Spring Cleaning confident, focused, surrounded by positive, loving friends. Yay me!

Then someone brought a jug of ammonia to my party. Thunk. A couple of conversations with a couple of people and my whole process was going to need to start all over again, face red, head spinning, eyes watering, self doubting, lil Russian doll heads popping off all over.

I would have rather just lifted my damn skirt and shown everyone my underwear. Again. After Spring Re-Cleaning, I’ve decided this time the underwear wouldn’t be plaid bikini. For starters we’re looking at boy shorts instead because this ass needs to be contained. They would be black and in red letters across my ghetto booty it would read I KNOW.

I know who I am.

I know that I trust until given a reason not to and some people may use that to their advantage.

I know that I love those I care about unconditionally without honestly wanting anything in return.

I know I am a genuine and kind hearted person.

I know I am flawed, but I am REAL.

I know when you look at all the other faces of mine behind the one you see-

I know who I am.

I know where I am going.

I know what makes me happy.

I know who really knows me and really loves me.

I know I am still allergic to ammonia.

And now I know I am allergic to mismatched Russian stacking dolls.