Saturday, January 12, 2008


After my major crash-and-burn at (last night's gathering), I've been forced to take inventory of the repertoire on which I've relied for so long to see me through the social seas I so often sail.

It seems I've been failing to impress for several weeks now, and I'm at somewhat of a loss for solutions. My phone only rings a paltry twelve times each day, I'm no longer c-r-a-m-m-i-n-g events into miniscule margins of my calendar, leaving scant seconds to get from one function to the next, and I'm not overbooking myself for so many coffees a day that there's enough of a current running through me to power a locomotive. On several occasions recently I have reduced friends to silence upon my arrival, generating about as much interest and merriment as a giant slab of meat, and let's face it, my Myspace page has tumbleweeds blowing across it. If you listen closely, you can hear that whistling theme song from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly when you're there. A few of you have been forced to seek refuge in reading when in my company so as not to fall asleep. Superficially this is of great offense to me of course, but the truth is, the blame is mine alone. The old nuts and bolts got sent in for some cranking last month and somehow I emerged only vaguely resembling myself. I am the same heap of junk you'd better watch out for, lest you cut your foot, but I'll apparently never be able to make a joke again in my life. Sure I'll take up the same amount of space in your living room, eat the same amount of your dinner, and, if you're my mom, charge the same amount, if not more, onto your Old Navy credit card, but there will be nothing in it for you. And, because of my size, the absence of a personality is painfully conspicuous, and will only to serve to make us all itch with awkwardness. So really, I don't begrudge you guys not calling, and/or not knowing what to say when you see me. But I'd be lying if I said there weren't moments when this didn't cause me gallons of embarrassment. Thus far, my reactions to this stark new reality have been utterly unimaginative, and even less constructive. Aside from shopping, I'm afraid I have pretty much kept it to a) crying, and b) crying and apologizing.

(Sound of welcome mats being whisked inside all over town.)

Give up on me if you must folks, but I have other things to offer besides busting your guts. I make good omelettes, though I loathe eggs to such a degree that I will usually pull up a stool beside you and tell you about it while you eat, I give killer back massages, I can literally return any physical item to any retail store, I can do 55 errands in one day, including clean your house, which I enjoy, and am learning to knit, which is both charming and practical.

So stick around.

1 comment:

Brandy Kinch said...

I'm just now putting the finishing touches on the almond-danish welcome mat I'm baking you for tonight :)
PS. It's not so much that you're not making jokes, it's that nobody knows they're jokes because you aren't smiling! I ought to march you down to the maestro, who would TELL you that you are having fun and MAKE you smile. If it works on Kalon and Addison, it'll work on you.