I've learned a lot this weekend. I've learned that I
1) don't flirt,
2) don't understand adult humor,
3) don't understand most normal humor,
4) that if ever I am a distressed damsel, I usually have to take care of the problem by myself because I'm either afraid to ask for help or asking for help would be pointless, and
5) that I'm socially bashful and on many occasions very awkward.
How do I know this? Well, either someone told me or, after noticing patterns in my life, I came to the conclusions myself.
Last night I went to a play with my parents. It was supposed to be a comedy buuuuuuut I wasn't laughing. Why? Because I didn't get any of the jokes. My parents were both laughing their heads off, as were most of the people in the audience. Not me though. That was a weird start to the night, being the only one who didn't get the jokes. Heck, even the 12-year-old kid whose dad was in the show was laughing! Sometimes I wonder...
This particular group of friends has a tradition of going to IHOP after a show, whether they performed in it or not. The three families (mine, the Carrascos, and the Poulsens with Jaden who is their cousin) made a sort of caravan over to the nearest IHOP and we, as usual, took up three tables. I sat with the younger people, me being the oldest at nearly 20 and the youngest being 11 (who I met when she was 9 months old). On the other end sat the real grown-ups, or at least age wise. I'm not sure about the maturity level...lol.
As I sat with the kids, one of them being one of my best friends (Jaden), I didn't understand half of what they were talking about! Their jokes and comments and such just went over my head. Or sometimes I got the gist of it, but I didn't want more than the gist because I could feel my cheeks burning (as Mitchell so kindly pointed out several times). To top it off, Mitchell started giving me advice about boys. And a lot of the advice sounded rather sound, too. For nearly twenty minutes I received relationship advice from a 12-year-old. A TWELVE year old! What is WRONG with me?! Sometimes I wonder...
So, I don't get adult jokes. So, I don't get teenage jokes, either. So, I'm the only one besides the 11-year-old who can't claim to have some sort of relationship, though I'm not sure if it counts for them or not. I mean...how lame is it to have a boyfriend or a girlfriend when all you can do is hang out at recess, and you have to ask your mom to drive you over to his or her house to hang out? You can't even go on a date because you don't have any money! So, why do these things bother me so much when none of them really matter? So what? Whatever the what is, it seems to mean a lot more to me than it should.
It was an awkward night for me. It's been an awkward weekend, to be honest. Not to mention this morning that I got super dizzy in the shower, thought I was going to throw up, and suddenly found myself on the ground wondering what the heck happened.
My sister Meghan has always (and I mean always) conveniently passed out while surrounded by strapping young men who carry her to a couch, bring her water, and do all sorts of heroic acts to make the distressed damsel comfortable. Me? I pass out in the shower. There is nothing dignified or romantic about that. Sometimes I wonder...
And, yes. Someone told me I don't flirt and that I'm socially bashful and often awkward. Gee...thanks for that. Now that I know what my problem is, I'm going to go read my book. Maybe I'll get lucky and find a Beast to fall in love with me...after all, he does have a beautiful rose garden in which I could amuse myself for hours on end. If I take care of his flowers well enough, do you think he'd overlook the bashful awkwardness? I'll take my chances.**
**I'm not bitter. I'm actually making myself laugh...seriously.**