SAA Ep. #43: Chivalry Fails

Sometimes I feel really bad for guys--especially in the South.  I mean, up North in Yankeeville (and in border states like KY, where I am from originally), guys aren't always expected to hold open doors or show courtesy to women-folk.  But down here where I live, it's generally expected for guys to show a certain amount of courtesy to females.  This includes opening doors and stepping aside to let them pass.  Some guys like to call this chivalry, and I'm learning to just go ahead and let them.  I mean, if you want to get technical, that whole Courtly Love thing and Chivalric code has little to do with guys opening doors for girls, but that's what people mean today when they say chivalry.  They mean guys opening doors for girls (and guys just generally being polite to girls).  Never you mind that if a girl opened a door for another girl, it would just be called common courtesy and not "chivalry."  Never you mind that a door isn't a Dragon, and by opening it a guy is not slaying it.  But I digress....  I have door issues.

But I feel bad for guys because sometimes they just really don't know what to do.  Even where I live, in the South, there are a lot of transplanted Yankees (yes, we call them that...sometimes...while we're running around barefoot chewing on grass and playing washboards in our jug bands).  So a poor guy might try to be nice and open a door for a female, as is usually expected, and in return for his kindness, he might get a lecture. 

I'm not a feminist.  I don't have a problem with a guy holding a door for me, as long as he's not all smug about it.  Because, as I mentioned before, a guy holding a door for me is polite, but it's not comparable to him slaying a Dragon.  If he expects more congratulations than a simple thank you, then he deserves a lecture.

I think I'm feeling sorrier for guys right now because I've had a couple awkward moments lately.  Both were in the grocery store.  Ok, so technically speaking, they were both in Wal-mart, my home away from home.

I was weaving my way through the aisles in our newly renovated Wal-mart.  That's right.  The Wal-mart I used to know backwards and forwards has been drastically changed so that I actually have to THINK when I shop.  I was trying to find the handsoap.  That sounds like an easy task, right?  Yeah, but for no apparent reason, the Wal-mart gods decided the handsoap would be better located on the opposite side of the aisle.  So I had to wander about aimlessly to try and find it. 

When I finally realized where the soap probably was, I tried to turn around.  But my quest was again thwarted.  A man with a large grocery cart blocked the aisle I needed to enter.  He stood there, smiling, and said, "Go ahead."  I tried to explain that I needed right where he was, but he persisted in a gentlemanly fashion, "Please, go ahead.  I'm only going one aisle over.  I don't mind waiting for you."

"Um, I kind of need right where you are," I said, trying not to be rude about it.  But there really wasn't a way to let the guy save face.  He got out of my way, scowling--not at me, I don't think, but at himself.  Some guys take that fake chivalry thing pretty seriously.

The other situation was similar, but much more fun.

I was trying to get something out of the freezer section.  This guy moved over, thinking he was giving me access to what I wanted.  Instead, he blocked the very door I needed.  And he stood there.  Grinning.  Obviously proud of himself for completing what he considered to be a chivalric gesture.

Again, I had to attempt to not be rude when I said, "Um, I kind of need right where you are."

This guy didn't scowl.  Instead, he played it off rather humorously.  "D'oh!  Chivalry fail!" he exclaimed, and jumped out of my way, making a grandiose sweeping gesture with his arms. 

I didn't bother correcting him (allowing me access to the frozen pizza didn't technically count as chivalry) because it was so stinkin' funny.  And for once I actually had something cute to say in reply.  "It's okay.  You still get brownie points for trying." 

And then his girlfriend came and gave me a dirty look and dragged the knight in shining sports jersey and baggy jeans away.

And then a fire-breathing Dragon appeared out of nowhere and went on a rampage down the bread aisle, and I was gallantly  rescued by a handsome prince steering a shimmering grocery cart.  And he swooped me up and carried me to the check out lane, where we purchased our delicious ware and lived happily ever after. 

I might have made that last part up.

Just Sayin' Episode #6: It Could Be Worse

I watched a movie today with the girls I watch.  Now, I was a little reluctant to watch said movie, not because I thought it was inappropriate for the girls or anything like that.  It's just that I have seen this movie before, and I felt uncomfortably sorry for the protagonist.  But I watched it again.  And yet again, I was overwhelmed with pity for the main character that bordered on discomfort.

"Dave" in The Sorcerer's Apprentice is perhaps the most socially awkward character I have ever encountered in either film or literature.  Granted, dude had a traumatic experience in a creepy magic store in a dirty alley in New York City, where a scraggly-haired, mad-eyed Nicholas Cage got him alone and wanted to "show him something."  I'm glad the girls didn't pick up on that being creepy, because I really didn't want to have to try to explain that to them.

But this guy grew up to be mentored (or, as scraggly-haired, mad-eyed Nicholas Cage put it, "MASTERED") by scraggly-haired, mad-eyed Nicholas Cage, so even if he WASN'T the most socially awkward character I've ever encountered in either film or literature, I'm pretty sure his chances of being well-adjusted to society were slim to none.

He stuttered.  He said the wrong thing ALL the time.  He hung out with...tesla coils. 

I'm not even sure what those are?  My sister the rocket scientist probably does.  She probably hangs out with them, too.  All I know is that they have to do with SCIENCE...and in the movie they make pretty colored sparkly lightning.  And rainbow ponies.  I might have made that last part up.

So dude was UBER awkward, at least he had a pretty cool Dragon ring.  That kind of thing would appeal to a socially awkward chick like me.  But no, no.  He ended up with the pretty girl who had it all together.  Which would never happen in real life.  I mean, cool Dragon ring or no, I'm pretty sure ANY girl (even the socially awkward chicks like me) would run away from him if he admitted that he was stalking her "in a non-threatening way" or if he cancelled a date because he was getting fondled by enchanted mops. 

So my social awkwardness?  Could be worse.  I could be that dude.  ...in pointy old man shoes.

Just sayin'.

SAA Ep. #42: The Imaginary Voiceover

The other day, I was running for the first time in 4 weeks. All right, so I was waggling (a bizarre combination of jogging and...waddling) for the first time in 4 weeks. It's not that I've gained back THAT much weight, but after about a month of not exercising, my body kind of forgot how to handle it. So I was huffing along like a fat sixty year old man in a bad sweatsuit from the '80s. And it was difficult to keep the waggling for very long.

That's when it happened. It started with a single note--a long, sweet, soft note from a french horn. Slowly, as my waggling strength waned, the note crescendoed. Then the strings joined in, ever so gently. Then came the voice. It was that movie announcer guy who died a few years ago--the one who did the GEICO commercial (he was awesome). His voice was not loud, but the depth of emotion in it was unmistakable.

And he said:

"Ruth Campbell will never be a great runner. She's not in this for the glory. She isn't in this for the speed. She doesn't care if she isn't the fastest runner in the world or if she never completes a marathon. No. Ruth Campbell runs because she loves to run. She loves the feeling of the wind on her face, mingling with the sweat on her brow. She loves the rhythm of the pavement beneath her feet. She loves the feeling she gets when she accomplishes something she never thought she could do before. She may not be a great runner, but today--TODAY--Ruth Campbell will finish this run, and nothing will stop her."

It wasn't until the voice had finished that I realized I'd just had one of those "Caddyshack Bill Murray" moments--you know--when he would hit the golf balls and pretend he was some great golfer, when he was just really some creepy weirdo with a strange hat. And I also realized something else. It's not the first time I've had one of those moments. I've had many of them. Too many to count.

I am a writer, so I have a pretty good imagination. Maybe that's why I've had so many of those imaginary voiceovers.  Like--when I'm cooking and all the sudden I hear this voice inside my head listing off ingredients, as if I were actually preparing something for a cooking show.  Or when I'm driving and I can't find the place I'm looking for, and I mentally start hearing a trailer for a suspenseful movie where the protagonist gets lost .  Or when I'm playing a computer game and picture myself as some great computer game playing genius in a world class competition.  Or when I'm bored while I'm shopping so I start pretending I'm a secret agent who will stop at nothing to find the "half gallon of milk" or "loaf of bread."

I guess I'm kind of a nerd.

Do you ever play imaginary voiceovers in your head (or out loud)?  Wanna share?

SAA Revisited: Would I Have Been in Dumbledore's Army?

In case you're living under a rock and didn't realize that the seventh Harry Potter movie has come out, let me tell you that the seventh Harry Potter movie has come out. I haven't seen it yet, and I probably won't because I'm socially awkward and hate fighting movie-going crowds. But I thought I'd repost this magical blog post to celebrate the coming out of the seventh Harry Potter movie.




Wait...that didn't sound right. Oh well. Enjoy the post!



Let's pretend Harry Potter is real.

Some people who are reading this might actually be gasping at their computer screens, shouting, "What do you mean PRETEND Harry Potter is real?  OF COURSE Harry Potter is real.  I'm pretty sure the owl who was trying to deliver my Hogwarts letter got eaten by a Kneazle, thus ending my magical education before it even started!!!" 

Ok, so for the sake of sane people, let's pretend that we're JUST pretending Harry Potter is real.  While we're at it, let's pretend that we're pretending Hogwarts is real, too.  Now let's pretend that I got my Hogwarts letter at the age of eleven and was accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  We don't have to pretend to pretend that part, because I can assure you, it did NOT happen. 

BUT if it did happen, I would have been Harry Potter's classmate.  I would have been in the same year as him, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy...you get the idea.  How do I figure that?  According to the death date on Harry's parents' gravestone, they were killed on Oct. 31, 1981.  Harry was a year old when his parents died.  Therefore, Harry Potter was born in 1980.  I was also born in 1980.  So I am the same age as Harry Potter.  (Did you know Harry Potter was 30 years old...almost 31?  The book version is.  Now you know...not that it matters...because MOST of us believe he's not real...).

So let's assume I got my Hogwarts letter and arrived at Hogwarts at the ripe old age of eleven.  I honestly don't remember much about being eleven.  I could barely tie my own shoes, so I'd imagine being on my own in ANY kind of boarding school would be an adventure...so the whole magical thing just takes it to a whole other level.  I'm pretty sure I would have been raised by Muggle parents, pretty much because I WAS raised by Muggle parents.  Well, my mom might be secretly magical...she's kind of awesome like that....

And speaking of my mom, I'm pretty sure a mama's girl like me would have a VERY difficult time adjusting to being away from home.  I would NOT have been placed in Gryffindor.  No, no.  I wouldn't be nearly brave enough.  The Sorting Hat would have taken one look at my cowardly brain and put me in HUFFLEPUFF! 

Back to reality for a moment.  Harry Potter didn't exist until I was almost an adult.  I didn't read any of the books until I was twenty-one, and by that time the fourth book was already out.  In 2001, most good Christian parents were telling their kids to stay away from Harry Potter, saying it was all about witchcraft and evil.  That encouraged me to want to read them (I'm always looking to read things that other Christians call evil--I want to make my own judgments), but I hadn't made the effort yet.  My good Christian parents?  They read the books and told me I HAD to read them.  They put the books into my hands and left me for a weekend to go visit my sister.

I mentally devoured those first four books within the span of three days.  From that time on, I was a Potterhead.  There was no going back.  I imagine that if I had gotten my hands on those books as a I teenager, I would have had wild fantasies about living at Hogwarts.  Shoot, I had wild fantasies about living at Hogwarts even in my 20s...but by that time I think I'd mellowed a little.  See, when I was a teenager, I latched on to whatever fantasy I could.  I did this because my reality pretty much sucked. 

A lot of that was my fault.  I realize that now.  And if anyone from my high school years ever reads this, please accept my apologies for being an arrogant brat.  People didn't like me, but I didn't exactly give them reason to like me.  I thought I was better than everyone, and I'm sure that attitude came out in my actions.

So yeah, I was unpopular.  I was a social misfit.  I still am, but it seems like I fit in better now.  I guess everyone else is a social misfit, too.  My attitude is a lot better now, at any rate.  But my teenage years were so uncomfortable that I sought escape.  I'm a little embarrassed to admit that my favorite fantastical escape was Star Trek.  It was bad....

But I can't help but think that I would have fantasized about Hogwarts if the books had been available when I was fourteen.  I would have imagined myself learning magical spells and going on wild adventures, facing Dementors and Death Eaters, and maybe even fighting Voldemort, himself.  The thing of it is, now that I'm older and wiser, I realize that things would not have gone like that at all.

I would have been just as unpopular at Hogwarts as I was in the real world.  I probably wouldn't have been friends with Ron or Harry.  I mean, getting to hang out with Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom would have been a step up for me.  I might have gotten along, to some degree, with Hermione. 

I even dressed up as Hermione Granger (complete with Crookshanks) for Halloween one year.

I always did well in class, so maybe Hermione would have been nice to me.  But I doubt we would have hung out socially...except for maybe the occasional study group. 

Oh wait...I always preferred to study alone.  I probably would have only left my common room for class and meal times.

And speaking of meal times, they would have been EXTREMELY detrimental to my health and social status.  I was a chunky child and a chunky teenager.  Well, the Great Hall is kind of like a magical All-You-Can-Eat buffet three times a day...and I'm pretty sure pumpkin juice wasn't that healthy.  I'm not picturing just plain old juice from a healthy pumpkin--I'm picturing liquid pumpkin pie complete with a large dollop of cool whip.  I mean, theoretically speaking, the magical food might have had some kind of calorie reducing enchantment...but I doubt it.  I would have gained even more weight at a school like Hogwarts...which would make me less popular.

And I doubt I would have mad magical skills.  Considering the fact that I was fifteen before I learned how to ride a bike and that it took me THREE tries before I got my driver's license, I'm pretty sure that broom riding would NOT be my very special talent.  And even though I understand Quidditch better than MOST sports, I probably would have not understood it enough to enjoy it.  So while the house teams were playing Quidditch and all the other students were down cheering, I'd have probably snuck up to my common room to fantasize about living in a non-magical world or something.

I also would probably suck at Potions class because, well, I can't cook.  And Defense Against the Dark Arts?  No way.  I'm pretty sure my Patronus would be a grub worm or something lame.  That wouldn't scare off any Dementors.  But...then I'd have more excuses to eat chocolate...which again...bad for my waistline and popularity.

The only place where I might have succeeded magically would have been Divinations class...but that's mainly because I like tea.

I have a feeling I'd be a Squib.

And when Voldemort came back, I'd probably just go home and hide with my non-magical parents while Harry Potter and his friends saved the day.  I wouldn't have followed spiders into the Forbidden Forest.  I wouldn't have fought for the freedom of house elves.  I wouldn't have tried to enter the Triwizard Tournament.  I wouldn't have trained in Dumbledore's Army.  I would have sat in my room wishing that my life were different...because the gillyweed is always greener on the other side of the Black Lake.

I would be a Hufflepuff, and that fact used to depress me a lot.  That's because I didn't understand how awesome Hufflepuffs are.  If I had been in Hogwarts as a teenager, I wouldn't have understood how awesome Hufflepuffs are, either.  I didn't realize Hufflepuffs were awesome until fairly recently.

I used to see Hufflepuffs as the left-overs.  If you weren't evil enough to be in Slytherin, or smart enough to be in Ravenclaw, or brave enough to be in the coveted Gryffindor, then the Sorting Hat would just throw you into Hufflepuff: The Leftover House.

But that's not a true representation of a Hufflepuff.  Cedric Diggory (before Voldemort turned him into a sparkly vampire) was in Hufflepuff.  What was so awesome about Cedric Diggory?  What's so awesome about most Hufflepuffs?  They're honest.  They're fair.  They're compassionate.  They're encouraging.  They work hard, and they care about others.  Eventually, and probably years after I graduated fair Hogwarts, I would have realized that being a Hufflepuff is a great honor.  That's when I would have known the truth that my life was just as it should be...that there was no fantasy greater than the reality of my magical life!

...but we're just pretending, remember?

Embarrassing Confession #6: Sharing the Awkwardness

As a socially awkward superhero, I have become quite comfortable with my social awkwardness.  When other people shy away from awkward situations, I often invite them with open arms. 

For instance, I know several women who hate buying, um, shall we say "feminine products" because they don't want the whole world to know that they have basic biological functions.

What do I do?

Whenever I have to buy "feminine products," I purposely look for the youngest male cashier I can find and go to his checkout line.  It's fun to watch him squirm.

...hmm...this could be one of the reasons I'm still single.

SAA Ep. #41: Not Remembering Having Met People

I took the girls I watch to the pool today.  Since I had cleverly packed a bag full of my swimming stuff and cleverly forgotten it and left it on my bed in my apartment, I was not able to go swimming with them.  So I sat nicely shaded at one of those awesome tables with a huge umbrella and still somehow managed to get a sunburn.

I'd been there about twenty minutes when one of the moms from the neighborhood came up and started talking to me as if she'd known me my entire life.  "I saw you over here and wanted to come see how you were doing."

Now, usually I'm terrible with names, but good with faces.  I've gone to the same church for five and a half years.  I've sung in the choir for about four of those years.  There are still names of people in the choir that I just don't know.  There are many more people in the church whose names I just don't know.  But I know their faces.  If I've met someone even once, I usually at least remember the person's face.  This person?  Well, I had no idea who she was.  I mean, she WAS wearing sunglasses, so I guess that might have thrown me a little.  As she started talking, I just figured that she was someone I'd met once or twice and maybe shared a "gee aren't these kids so cute" moment.

But then this lady asked me a question that led me to believe that we've had more than just a superficial conversation.  As I was trying to figure out who she was, she asked me, "So how is your book going?"

I looked down at my hands, at the book that I was reading, wondering if she were possibly talking about that.  But no.  She had that annoying look that accompanies every person who asks that dreaded question, "How is your book going?"

I kind of made one of those "so-so" hand gestures and managed a weak smile.  She said something else before departing.  I can't remember what it was.  I was too busy trying to figure out when I'd had a conversation with her about the fact that I write books.  I mean, I just don't go up to strangers and say, "Hi!  My name is Ruth!  I write books!  I like Dragons!  My second favorite color is maroon!  I'm obsessed with Rich Mullins!  My sister once got bitten by a muskrat!  Be my best friend EVER!"  Maybe if I did, I'd have more friends, but somehow I doubt it.  There is a reason someone like me was born inside a shell.  The figurative kind--not the candy coated kind.  I think being an M&M would be slightly problematic for me.  I am reminded of Spaceballs when "Pizza the Hutt" ate himself to death.  If I were an M&M, my fate would be similar.

AND...back to my story.

The only thing I can figure is that either I was completely out of it when I did meet and speak with this person, or I really have only had surface level conversations with her and other people have been talking to her about me behind my back.  I don't really like to think about people talking about me because 1) my writing and I aren't cool enough to be the subject of almost total strangers' conversations and 2) that kind of thinking makes me seem paranoid--and I'm finally just now starting to get used to the idea that "THEY" probably aren't all out to get me.

But then there was this one time in college where I walked into the office of my new advisor, an English professor.  I never had the privilege of taking this lady's class, and I'd never spoken to her before.  But I sat down at her desk and the first words out of her mouth were, "So I hear you're a wonderful writer."  Apparently the English department HAD been talking about me.  And "THEY" might have even been out to get me. 

So I'm really not sure what happened, but apparently I meet people and then forget about it later.  Maybe I have amnesia.  Maybe "THEY" came and got me and erased my memory of having met this person.  How many other people have "THEY" made me forget?  What other things have "THEY" done to me?

I'mma go hide in my room now...

...and put tin foil on my head...

...just for good measure...

SAA Ep. #40: Talking to Machines

If Sci Fi movies are any indication, then we can expect for technology and machines to take over the world in the future. Maybe they already have. This could be the Matrix. I mean, right now you and I could be sitting in little pods filled with goo while machines feed off our energy. So maybe I'm not even writing a blog right now. ...I still expect you to read it.

I've watched/read a lot of Science Fiction...at least enough to know that HAL does not open the pod bay doors. So Science Fiction has taught us that we can't trust machines. But you and I really don't have to boldly go where no man/one has gone before or open up a good Arthur C. Clarke novel to realize that machines can't be trusted. Any college students with deadlines know that computers and printers always plot against us and break down when it's 7:55 a.m. and the paper students stayed all night typing needs to be printed and in the professor's hand at 8:00 a.m.

Technology is unpredictable. Machines were made to make our lives easier, but if they don't do what they're designed to do when we need them to do it, then they make our lives harder. And there's always this thought in the back of my mind that one day my laptop is going to develop a mind of its own and try to eat my brain. Sometimes after watching "I, Robot," I really just want to go live on a farm somewhere and churn butter and ride buggies and shun all technology and pretend I'm Amish. Only I don't think I'd look that cute in a bonnet. Being plain isn't really my thing... Wait.  Can Harrison Ford be there and drink a glass of lemonade like he did in "Witness"?  I wouldn't mind being Amish then. 

 What was I talking about?  Oh.  Technology.

Really, a socially awkward person, such as myself, can totally benefit from technology. When machines are everywhere, I don't have to talk to people as much (which is one of the main goals in the life of every socially awkward superhero).  Now, when I go to the bank. I don't have to go inside, stand in line with other people (some of whom smell inexplicably of pork and beans).  I don't have to speak to a teller who keeps checking to make sure I don't take one of the kids' lollipops they have up the counter.  No, no.  Now I can drive on up to the ATM, deposit my checks, get some cash, and go on my way without ever having to interact with a single human being. 

Same thing with the library.  I can go online, reserve a book, get an automated call from the library, go pick up my book and use a self-checker.  When I'm done with the book, I can toss it into the outside drive-thru bin.  I can have a complete library experience without ever having to talk to a human being.

Grocery store?  I can use a self-checkout.  Now, I have to admit that ten years ago, I had my first experience with one of these things.  Then I vowed that I would never use one again.  See, what happened was, the machine went crazy and started telling me to put things into my bag after I'd already put them in there, and then it kept trying to charge me for things I hadn't even bought.  So I got fed up with it and decided I was going to just give in and go to an actual checkout lane with an actual human person.  But the actual human person monitoring the self-checkout thing (who hadn't been paying attention when the machine went crazy) came over and accused me of trying to steal stuff. So I stepped back and let her ring up all my stuff in the self-checkout, which pretty much defeated the purpose of using a self-checkout.  And I declared that those things were evil and I would never use one again.  I've recanted that lately.  The self-checkout lane machines are not evil; they are simply misunderstood.  I think sometimes they do crazy stuff because they're bored.  I mean, really.  I'd be bored if I were a self-checkout machine.

I'm also very appreciative of companies that have automated services I can use when I have to call them.  I hate hate HATE talking to people on the phone about stuff.  "Customer Service Representatives are standing by" is one of the scariest phrases in the world to me.

Please don't get me wrong.  I like people (sometimes--maybe even usually).  I like talking to people (sometimes).  I also don't want machines to put people out of jobs.  But there's just something really nice to me about being able to go out into the world and do things without having to talk to strangers.  Maybe that makes me some kind of anti-social jerk, but at least I'm not a homicidal robot. 

...or am I...

?

Fun with Video!

I finally made one of those fun typing video things.  It's loosely based off my most popular Socially Awkward Adventure, Invisible Leprosy. 



Enjoy!



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