Awkward Recap!

We're long overdo for an Awkward Recap, friends.  Here's what I've got for you:

• Bought two bottles of tequila with my mom yesterday.  We tried to return the first one (Jose Cuervo) after buying the second (Patron), but there was some kind of glitch.  Oh, by the way, both of these stores were on a military base. And we never ended up making margaritas. +2 awkward points.
• Discovering that while "Bollito Misto" rolls off the tongue when you are talking about cooking class, it actually involves cow tongue when you are in cooking class. +3 awkward points.
• I think this post pretty accurately sums up what Christmas Mass was like.  +5 awkward points.
• At church on Sunday, the priest renewed everyone's wedding vows in honor of the Feast of the Holy Family.  It was sort of sweet.  Until the couple behind me returned to their seats and the husband announced, "I even showered for you!  I must have known we were going to get married again today!"  Being single never looked so good.  + 5 awkward points.
• I had the most awkward dining experience to date, at an Indian restaurant in Reston. You can read about it on Yelp, but I'm going to give it + 3 awkward points.
• The sleeping-bag coat has, apparently, become a fixture of my persona.  I ran into Professor Coldheart at the T station last week and the first thing he said to me was, "Is this the sleeping bag coat?"  I am a little worried that he had to ask.  +6 awkward points.
• Discovering that someone found my blog because they googled, "how not to be awkward with your boyfriend." +6 awkward points.

Well, that brings us to a distressing total of 30 awkward points for the past week or so.  

I really am out-doing myself these days.

In case you were wondering:

Awkward is almost passing out during midnight mass because you're allergic to incense.

Everyone loves the sleeping bag coat

I know this because it's become an increasingly popular search term for my blog. Also because some of you contacted me after reading my first post about it to tell me how relieved you were that someone else was rocking such ridiculously unattractive apparel.

Leave comments, people! Share your sleeping bag love with the world! There's nothing to be ashamed of.

Look, I'll be honest, I was a little nervous about donning my sleeping bag coat this year. It's gotten to be a bit too big, it is ridiculously unattractive, and it's a bit of a safety hazard on escalators.

I've been pondering the "ridiculously unattractive" part for a while now. Why did this bother me so much?

It's not as if strangers frequently come up to me and tell me how attractive I am when I'm wearing things besides a sleeping bag coat. No one has ever approached me on the street and asked for my phone number. And it's not like I would ever give my number to someone who did that. I would probably lie and say something like, "Oh, I don't have a cell phone." Even if I was talking on it, that's probably the first thing that would come out of my mouth.

(Side note: I know this true because I once told a guy that I didn't have an email address. I am the worst liar.)

The point is that in a sleeping bag coat, one sometimes feels she might be drawing attention to herself and, despite what you might think, I really really dislike drawing attention to myself.

Yesterday, for example, I was walking down Summer Street to pick up some stamps from the mobile Post Office. As I crossed in front of Macy's, two girls stopped in their tracks to stare at me. They looked me up and down. Then one of the girls shouted to her friend, "Now that's what I need!"

Having voiced her desire, they continued on their way, leaving me standing at the corner feeling like an animal on display in a zoo.

Everyday we wake up, we choose love, we choose light

Ok, I'm obsessed with this song. I didn't realize that it was used in the iPhone commercials, but I'm sure that my subconscious knew this and that's really why I love it. (Now you know what to get me for Christmas, folks.)

Anyway.

I left my office last night around 10. DTX is eerily empty at that hour. I walked over to Park St and waited for the train. It arrived and I made a beeline for the single seat in the front of the car. Why sit next to someone when you don't have to?

Now, in a just world, to make up for the fact that I was leaving work at 10pm, the attractive guy with the nice jeans and the A4 notepad would have sat down across from me and I would have been able to spend the next 20 minutes enjoying that.

These sorts of things do not happen in my world.

No, instead of Good Looking T Guy, I got to sit across from The Unnattractive Couple. (Secret ballot: nose studs in men.)

These two were generous souls. Clearly worried that the T would reach Charles/MGH and experience an influx of passengers, they decided the just course of action would be to share one seat between the two of them.

For the next 20 minutes I was forced to awkwardly look away as The Girlfriend sat on The Boyfriend's lap and scrunched up his shaved head. It was like watching someone pet a pug, but less attractive and with fewer social graces.

Finally, The Boyfriend got annoyed with this and I got to awkwardly look away as they quietly fought and The Girlfriend made him stand so that she could have the seat all to herself.

Pouting takes up more space than you might think.

Awkward at parties

My first holiday party of the season was not a wild success.

I was very excited about this party for a number of reasons:

1. It was being hosted by one of my favorite people.
2. ...who happens to live three houses down from me.
3. I got to get dressed up in a cute 60s dress that used to belong to my grandmother.
4. They always have delicious food and drinks. What can I say? I love punch.
   

When Saturday came around though, I was feeling a little off. The party started at 8 and I was still in bed an hour later, wasting time on the internet. I finally started getting ready around 9.30 and showed up at the party about an hour later.

I was now two and a half hours late for this party that was literally across the street from my house. I planned on using "traffic" as my excuse if anyone asked. Sadly, no one did.

Once I walked in, I realized I was in over my head. The apartment was packed full of people I did not know and it appeared that I had arrived too late to really strike up a conversation with any of them.

I found my friend, put my coat down, found my friend again, got some punch, and then realized the situation was totally hopeless. I was simply too awkward to do anything at this party. I quickly decided that the best solution was to cut my losses for the night and head home. I waited a few moments for a space to clear so I could put my cup down somewhere and then grabbed my coat and set out on the long walk home.

Somehow, this seemed less awkward than saying goodbye.

It wasn't. Particularly when I received a text message from my friend 15 minutes later asking where I was. Explaining my bizarre behavior would have been challenging over any medium, but I found it particularly difficult when there were character limits involved.

All told, I spent about an hour getting ready for a party I spent fifteen minutes at.

I think that might be a new anti-socialite record.

Recommended Reading

A weekend post? I know you're confused, it's ok.

I just spent a good long time laughing about this blog post over at a big victory. I offer these links as my UnBirthday present to all of you. Enjoy

Too busy to be awkward?

Is it possible that one can become too busy to create awkward situations?

I suppose it depends on how comfortable the people in your life are with Gchat. (Unrelated: You guys know that stuff can be recorded, right? Please contact me before you run for political office.)

Sadly, this might just be a blog post about how I'm too busy to write a real blog post and I hate when people do that. Just go follow me on Twitter, I'm much more entertaining in 140 character pieces anyway! (Really, it's true. A boy practically told me so, and you know what they say about boys: they never lie.)

Truth be told, the reason I haven't been able to share more of my awkward life with all of you is that the sky has fallen on my head at work. Since I actually love my job, this is not such a bad thing.

The sad part about it is that the sky fell because my boss left, and she really was the best boss ever. Even if she did suggest I let my mom set me up with Justin.

Anyway, I'll be starting the holiday party circuit this weekend, so I'm sure I'll get some good stories to dole out over the coming weeks. In the meantime, I hope each and every one of you has an awkward experience at your Office Holiday Party. Please tell me about it once it happens!

A few thoughts on this Blagojevich thing

Seriously, very few:

1. This whole thing is crazy. Do people get away with this sort of thing?
   
2. Despite coming from a family of government-employees, working for Uncle Sam has generally not seemed very appealing to me. Upon reading this paragraph from the complaint, however, I might have changed my mind just a little bit:

"I am a Special Agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) assigned to the Chicago, Illinois Field Division. I have been a Special Agent with the FBI for over twenty-two years. I am presently assigned to the West Resident Agency of the FBI's Chicago Field office. My duties include investigating corruption of public officials, mail fraud, wire fraud, and other white collar crims. I have been involved in white collar crime investigations for a majority of my career as a Special Agent with the FBI."

Is it a sign that I've been watching too much television that this sort of thing sounds fun and exciting?

Also, I think that jamietie had the best tweet about it:

Ted Leo goes solo

Much to the amusement of everyone who knows me, I used to have a punk rock phase. I suppose this still might not be amusing to my parents, but it was the tamest punk rock phase in the history of such things, and mainly involved wearing hoodies and begging to be allowed to go to concerts at the 9:30 Club.

About two years ago, I pretty much stopped going to shows. I'm not entirely sure why, but I'll go out on a limb and say it had something to do with my growing aversion to crowds, my shrinking bank account and a never ending pile of graduate school applications.

Every once in a while, I still check Pollstar (an abysmal, but useful, website) to see if anyone fun is coming to town. Almost inevitably this leads me to discovering that the Decemberists will be playing in a week and tickets have sold out.

Last week, however, it led to the brilliant discovery that Ted Leo would be playing in Cambridge on a Saturday night. Tickets weren't available online anymore, but my friend and I got to Central Square early and picked some up at the door.

(For the record, I have never payed $12 for a show before and it's hard for me to describe the radiant joy I felt over not paying Ticketmaster "convenience fees".)

While we were waiting in line (at the bar) to purchase our tickets, a guy walked up to the bartender and asked if he could give her a guest list. Here's a tip for how to act cool in front of celebrities: Don't recognize them.

Ok, it's not that I didn't recognize Ted Leo. I was 99% sure it was him (who else would have a guest list?), but he did look different. He apologized to me for holding up the bartender/ticket seller and I smiled and said something extremely cool, like: "Not a problem".

If I had a brain, I would have taken advantage of the opportunity to request "The High Party." Perhaps he knew this, because he played it anyway. It was something like this:



He actually played a number of tracks off of Hearts of Oak, but only a few songs from his later albums.

While the concert itself was great, I left with two major gripes:

1. T.T. the Bear's (Place) might be the worst venue in Boston. Maybe it's just not meant to hold bands that are going to sell out, but that seems like a pretty poor business plan if you ask me.
2. Scenesters, of any age, are ridiculous. The place was packed with people who looked like they'd come out on a Saturday night to stand very very still and listen to music they didn't know at all. A few people got into it when he played "Me and Mia", but that was about the extent of it.

Also, tall people. Why are you always right in front of me?

Those things aside, the show was a lot of fun, and if Ted Leo is coming to your town to play solo, I recommend that you check it out. Maybe he'll even end it on this:

Keep your boyfriend, my alarm clock doesn't snore

Wednesday morning I finally made it to yoga.

The instructor was unusually talkative before class and the girl next to me kept looking over at me like she wanted to have a conversation but didn't know how.

Normally I would ignore these sorts of overtures, which is one of things that make people uncomfortable around me in social settings. Yesterday, however, I was at yoga and feeling kind and magnanimous and all of those things that one thinks she is supposed to feel while preparing for some Warrior One.

"It's so early"

Yes, that was a lame opening. In my defense, it's not like I was trying to pick her up at a bar with that line. It's also not like she came up with anything better. She seemed relieved that I had said anything at all, and the words just gushed out of her:

"Ohmigosh, I know!! It's a great class, but it's so hard to get up in the mornings to come here. My boyfriend and I come together. I don't know how people do it otherwise."

You are all welcome to send me cookies for keeping my snarky comments about alarm clocks to myself at that moment.

New spellings

Saw these two pieces of graffiti on the T this morning:

I <3 youh↓
kyla

and

yaritza & kyla
wuss here
<3
11.08.08
8:41 P.M.

There are a couple of things here that I think are worth noting:

1. I'm not using "<" + "3" to make the heart that they drew more keyboard friendly. That's actually how it was written, <3.>
2. Wuss. Wuss.
   
1. Not "wuz". Certainly not "was".
2. Do you think they know that "wuss" is an actual word? A noun?
3. Youh. YOUH.
1. Isn't one of the big complaints about English spelling that it is rarely phonetic? Weren't you puzzled by all the extraneous characters when you first learned how to spell "through"? Why go through the trouble of adding a silent "h". I cannot decide if I find this more visually offensive than "u". At least I can understand the logic behind "u".
   

I suppose what I find most surprising was the deliberate capitalization and punctuation of P.M. when the rest of the note was lowercase.

Lexie, how many T points do you think I get for this?

Welcome your Google Overlords

I'm a big fan of Google. Which is probably for the best, since Google is everywhere.

I think xkcd illustrated this phenomena brilliantly a little while back:









Of course, if you're interested in the specifics, you should check out Allen Stern's recent article on CenterNetworks. My favorite quotes?

"If you use Chrome, they know everything they didn't already know about your browsing."
"If you use Gmail, they know everything. Yep, everything."
"If you use Calendar, they know where you have been, are, and plan to be."

Does he have a point? Sure. After all, the first sentence on Google's Corporate Information page is: "Google's mission is to organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful."

Yes, Google as an entity knows a whole lot about the online population at large. They probably have access to some unsettling information about you. On the other hand, you have to ask yourself how much anyone else cares what you've saved in your Google Docs.

Without getting too English major-y on you, I think the xkcd strip gets at that point that Google doesn't really see things on the individual level. For the time being anyway.

Here's an example from my Gmail inbox yesterday that illustrates this point:

My hysterical friend Claire sent me an email with a link to this article about how the Jane Austen museum has had to formally ban people from distributing human ashes in the author's garden. When I opened this email, the following ad popped up at the top of my inbox:

Based on this ad, we can assume that Google does not know the following things about me:

• I do not have a pet.
• Cremation creeps me out.
• I'm not big on jewelry.
• I find basic grammar mistakes a big turn-off.

They might, however, know that I was recently obsessed with Six Feet Under.

Of course, now that I've written about this on Blogger, they know it all.

Anyway, I think we should all just relax and welcome our Google Overlords. I'm sure they'll be nice.

Awkward Reunion

The reunion turned out to be a good time.  Unfortunately, it was nowhere near as awkward as I had hoped.  

There were a lot of people that I recognized, but couldn't remember their names.  Avoidance seemed the best course of action, and it served me well throughout the night.

I did run into a guy I had dated briefly at the beginning of freshmen year.  He was there with his girlfriend and introduced me to her as "his first Real Girlfriend" and then described our relationship as "a learning experience".  I suppose that both of these things are absolutely true, though I question their relevance to that particular moment in time.

I decided to extricate myself from the conversation when a fellow classmate showed up to congratulate the ex on how good he was looking these days.  It seemed like an impossible situation:  if I disagreed or said nothing, it would be rude; if I agreed, I'd be making the situation unnecessarily uncomfortable for his current girlfriend.  I'm not entirely sure how just leaving played, though.

I'm having a hard time assessing the number of awkward points to attribute to that situation.