day 3: i'm a dork

On Saturday, as I was writing this, I was sitting in my parents garage, facebooking, twittering (yes, just started) and attempting to get the two to work together—all while listening to classic old school rock n roll (ZZ Top, Creedance Clearwater Revival—you know, the classics) AND “helping” the parentals with a garage sale. Because I had not prepared for 50 degree weather and rain, I had on tube socks with flip flops, a sweat shirt from 8th grade and knit gauchos. Yes, I know, you’re jealous with how I HOT I looked. My dad informed me I looked like a polish orphan.

The older I get, the dorkier I get. In fact, I’m told on a very regular basis by my sister, “Oh my gosh, you’re such a dork!” She likes to tell the story of me going off to college and immaturing rather than maturing. I spent too much of my life trying to be older than what I really was, so it was ridiculously freeing to find the dork within!

Most people don’t see this side of me. For the most part I’m a confident put together woman, but just so you know, there is quite the dork inside, and what most don’t know is there is also a klutz. I think it comes from years of trying to grow into my limbs…but I never did. They tell me I was supposed to be 5’6”…nope…didn’t happen. Poor thing…I wear the same size shoe now as I did in 4th grade…awkward doesn’t even begin to describe my childhood.

Case in point.

Several weeks ago I was in a meeting at work. I have a client sitting right next to me. We have breakfast items being served, fruit, muffins, nuts, coffee, you know, the usual. Now that you know my bad habit of zoning, I usually know the warning signs and get up and walk around a bit in order to stay focused. I decide I would like to get a mini-plate of food. So in the middle of the meeting I stand up, walk over to the items, serve myself and sit down. I pick up a big juicy strawberry, take a bite and it dribbles all down the front of my khaki jacket. Smooth move ex-lax, how you gonna recover from this one? Thankfully my client is distracted while my boss is speaking and I’m able to get a napkin, dip it in water and attack the stain. Ok, crisis averted.

I decide to go for something a bit smaller, a grape. Now, I’ve already learned (from prior experience) you don’t stab a grape with a fork, unless you want it to catapult across to the person next to you. So, I pick up a couple. One goes in my mouth and the other slips out and falls down the front of me and rolls over and bounces off my client’s shoe. Oh crap. Praying to God she doesn’t notice, and she doesn’t. Shew!

Then, lunch times rolls around and we’ve ordered from Café Express. I don’t really enjoy this place, but I L-O-V-E their sweet potato fries. I get my box of food. After wrestling with the container made of plastic, trying to be quiet and discreet, it finally opens. My greatest fear was that I would get too much momentum while opening and then fries would go flying, once again, knowing that from prior experience. It opens, and I go to put a fry in my mouth and it slips and falls to the floor next to my client, AGAIN! Good gracious…what is my deal?!? She now has a grape and a fry next to her foot. Keeping my fingers crossed her foot doesn’t move and squash them both.

I swear…if anyone watched me on any ordinary day, they would just roll their eyes and wonder how I make it through! Believe me…I wonder myself.

Thankfully, the meeting ends without anyone noticing anything out of the ordinary, or at least they didn’t say anything if they did, and my client’s shoe left food-free.

Embrace your inner dork today and make sure to LAUGH! :)

“she’s a pretty girl”