Nothing much of note to blog about today; I’ve been a little under the weather since the DizzyMonster(tm) has returned to my life, throwing everything out of whack. Logically, I know it’s probably just a temporary thing that’s related to the ever-changing weather here in Atlanta. (we went from a week of 85 degree temperatures, to a week featuring lows in the 30′s. I just had to turn my heat back on. I love the fact that we’re the only city that has 8 distinct seasons, and we experience 3 different ones per day. ) Emotionally, I can’t help but feel a little defeated by a body that won’t let me be in control of my own life; a reminder that while I may have good days, or even weeks, everything can again fall apart at a moment’s notice and there’s little I can do except wait for it to pass. I feel quite disheartened.
So, in an attempt to dwell on the lighter-hearted side of life, I’ll blog about one of those random moments that sort of brings synchronicity back into life, and reminds you that somehow, every seemingly tangential conversation does come full circle (even not if always with the same person. ).
A friend of mine posted on Facebook today that she was blushing. A rather mundane, ordinary status, I grant you. However, this got a number of curious replies. It was a surprising and uncharacteristic for this girl to post, because, like myself, she does not fool anyone into even thinking she’s the type who blushes out of embarrassment or self-consciousness too easily.
This was an odd bit of synchronicity because a while back (or maybe just days ago—I don’t know, all the days seem to run into each other as of late–sleep, work, do random stuff, work, blog, read, repeat.), a friend of mine attempted to make me blush via our conversation, and failed miserably each time. In fact, I think the result was him blushing a few times at my responses to said failed attempts. (oh, yes, if you don’t succeed, I’ll have a witty retort that puts you on the spot and makes you blush instead.) I told him that blushing, much like saying something that renders me speechless, is something that doesn’t happen often and one has to work for it. (I believe that was accepted as somewhat of a challenge, but I’m not worried. I can hold my own. )
After all, how do you make someone blush who will freely talk about most things, and/or turn anything you have to say into a witty comment, sometimes with obvious Freudian connotations and low-brow humour? It isn’t that I have no shame, but it’s simply that my level of shame is much lower and my tolerance for being put on the spot a little higher than…well, most everyone’s. It’s also probably the direct result of never having that many close female friends; in college, when the girls were all off getting manicures, I was challenging frat boys to Irish car bomb contests. It’s not that I’m not feminine and delicate and modest and all of that good stuff; I am, in my own unique way. I’m even a little cultured and refined when need be. But when the time comes to have fun, I want to surround myself with intelligent people with a sense of humour who aren’t afraid of a little wit, or telling a dirty joke here or there. Life needn’t always be so serious, after all…there are more than enough opportunities for seriousness, focus, and repression.
But, in all seriousness….I digress.
Back to me. (come on, isn’t that how it should be? ) I am not the blushing, shrinking violet type. I’ve tried to cultivate that response a bit in order to teach myself Southern charm and all that, but it doesn’t work unless I’ve just done a shot, and then I’m coloured-in for an entirely different reason, and the results are typically neither charming nor subtle. In fact, the only way to make me blush is to point out a social faux pas that I’ve committed, make a comment so brilliantly witty or off-colour that I have no retort, or to say something unexpected and from the heart that evokes an emotion that is worthy of more than dismissal with a witty comment.
This girl who brought up the subject of blushing mentioned that it was, in fact, a response to a situation with a handsome guy and an unexpected comment that made her—the type of person so open that I look positively prudish in comparison to—turn a reddish-purple colour.
My response? “Unlike virginity, blushing should be reserved for the right man, in the right situation.” (I do believe that’s almost worthy of becoming an Alayna-ism.)
I suppose I should be honoured that I have the ability to make my friends–and typically my male friends, at that— turn varying shades of red with relatively little effort.
As for me, speechlessness and blushing don’t come easily, so I’m always rather thrown off-guard when it happens.
(And, yes…that’s what she said. )
On an unrelated—but not entirely—note, television is catching on to the idea of manic pixies and sarcastic, emotionally challenged chicks with attitude, and morphing them into one character…and the result is a new show I absolutely love.
ABC premiered a show (there are currently two episodes on Hulu) called “Don’t Trust The B—- In Apartment 23″, and I have to say, it’s hysterical. The Guy I Am Currently Dating recommended it to me, somehow knowing I’d love it, and once again, he has not disappointed in his understanding of what I find funny.
It’s not “Two Broke Girls, but it has a different kind of charm. The highlights include Krysten Ritter as the aforementioned “B–” (is it coincidental that all the really cool, kick-ass chicks are from the Philly area?), and James Van Der Beek from Dawson’s Creek as a fictionalised version of himself. The whole thing is totally absurd, but has snark and heart. I wish it wasn’t on ABC, because anything on ABC inevitably sucks and dies; it’s much more an NBC or CBS kind of show. However, while it’s around, I totally recommend watching it. If you don’t like wit and absurdity, it also has two hot chicks and Dawson from Dawson’s Creek? What else do you want from your TV?
I highly recommend. Like demure, blushing women, good TV is hard to find these days.