Perception, Women & Fitting In

As of late, perception is the key word. The word that I always come back to. The word that defines. The word that IS.

How I perceive things and how I'm being perceived are also two completely different things. I clearly welcome others perceptions of me and I suppose while initially they can be stingingly (my word, work with me here) painful, after the initial insult to injury, I get it. I really do think that I can be quite empathetic. I do believe that I have the ability to put myself in others shoes and see what they see - with their assistance and insight of course (although not always necessary).

Eyegirl has her perceptions of me. You will too.

Lately, I almost feel as though I've had to rationalize or justify, not only embrace these perceptions. I understand that we all have a right to our own opinions. To our own perceptions. We also have no right to control someone else.

We are only accountable for our own thoughts, actions and behaviors. Control what you can control and leave the rest to...(you fill in the blank).

Friday night I went out with some friends. We went to a happy hour for a local ski club. Out of the norm for me, I actually put on a name tag, although not initially. In doing so, I met a gentleman at the table who then latched on to me and my friends the rest of the evening. I have to admit, that I thought by being generous and giving him my number when he asked, that would mean he conquered and he would move on. Naive? Possibly.

I also figured that he wouldn't call. But here's the rest of the story...He was (is may be appropriate but outside of that social context I don't know him) a nice man. We had a decent conversation. We had skiing in common. I had no reason to give him a false number or deny him his request. He did afterall ask and if he and I happened to be skiing at the same venue, so be it.

Can we really have enough friends? Do I really think that I am better than him that he doesn't deserve my number? NO and NO.

He did stay very close to me the rest of the time my friends and I were there. Two of my friends were becoming increasingly protective of me around him. He did engage with all my friends as well. It was just a social experience.

The awkwardness came more with the looks that I was getting from...the women. I was noticing several women staring at me. One actually came up to me and acknowledged that she had been staring at my name tag because her middle name was the same and spelled identically. Ironic sure, but did that justify the several minutes of gazing and repeated glances? I did tell call her out and said that I was wondering if she was looking at me because I was loud or if I said something offensive, thereby recognizing her stares, which she denied. We chatted for a few minutes and then she ventured on her mingling way.

Then I turned around and was being stared at by another couple of women. Another woman finally voiced that she was looking at my name tag. Her name began with the same first three letters and she was trying to see if the last were similar. I don't know that I would ever stare to read someone's name. Glance. Read. Done. Seriously, do these women really think I'm buying this story? Is it just that I caught them staring that they came up with something? Why is it I feel like in social situations that I'm beyond awkward?

Why can't I just fit in?

But maybe the real question is: Do I really want to fit in? And most days, the answer is...yes, I do.

Blog Thanks

This morning when going through my normal routine of emails and my blog, I happened to notice a new referral to the blog. http://www.lifeaseyeseeit.com/ is someone that I have known since we were wee ones and got back in touch several years ago through Myspace. I've been following her blog on Google Reader for sometime now, which of course she detests, but for some reason her direct blog site has been crashing both my personal and work computer internet connections for sometime. Today, was actually an exception, odd.

So I was more than shocked when I happened to learn that she had blogged about her favorite blogger and it was...ME. I've been reading about her blog crushes and occasionally I will look at some of the blogs she follows and I've noticed her blog networks on FB, but never thought much about it or how she may perceive my blog. As she blogged, yes, I enjoy being incognito, unknown, unread.

Honestly, I've never had an issue with really worrying about people stumbling across my blog from google searches. I hope in some way I've offered insight or a laugh to something they were seeking. Most of my searches are from people looking for assistance with "movie prep colonoscopy" or "lie detector jokes" or "rubber glove jokes" and I know that these people will likely never venture back.

It is the people that I know about or that I tell about my blog that I worry about the most. The people that I allow to see my vulnerability, moreso because they actually know me, not that they can feel the connection from reading my blog that they become to feel as they know me. They DO know me and because of my blog, more intimately than I likely know them. And sometimes, that is hard.

Hard for me to know that someone I know is knowing more about me than I'm sure that they have shared with me. There have been some past boyfriends that I've shared the blog with and others that I care about. Because I generally know that they may peruse my blog, I may disclose less or not blog about certain aspects of my life for confidentiality purposes or because it's just not something I care to discuss or have them know.

So sometimes I go a while without blogging because I'm waiting for someone to stop reading or I'm really just trying to assess my situation without sharing it for anyone who chooses to venture. But often times, it's because I just don't feel like I have anything worthy of actually typing or in your case, reading.

I'm a little gunshy and overwhelmed to say the least by Eyegirl's post today and all of her followers that have stopped by to check me out. I appreciate the look and if you stick around, enjoy the ride and feel free to comment. I will definitely check you out as well, in my free time, which I obviously have a lot of these days!

Pee Hole

My son will be thirteen in March. Thirteen. He stands over 5'3" tall, 116 pounds, has had an ever increasingly dark growing mustache for almost two years (both of his parents are beyond hairy, poor kid), size 9 mens shoe and is in the 7th grade. He plays sports all season long and is actually quite intelligent, or so his Gifted and Talented participation and teachers claim. So...regardless of all of our sex education talks (I could have opted him out of Health class - because clearly I AM THAT GOOD OF A TEACHER) he is taking health daily for the next six weeks to actually learn something appropriate (not to be confused with, "My momma says" similar to that of Adam Sandler in WaterBoy).

I'm going to start off by saying one of our first conversations of the evening happened to be my asking for permission to apply for a flight attendant position, one of 20 being announced in the area. Even while brushing his teeth in the bathroom, I could see and feel him cringe and his garbled responses came oh so quickly, "What? Why? Where would I stay?"

Me, "With your dad of course." Which he quickly responded, "I see him every other weekend and Wednesdays and...that's enough."

So I guess that's out of the picture then? Yep...

As I was tucking him into bed, he begins to talk about his latest discussion in health class. "We talked about parts today?" Me being the student, I was all like, "Parts? What kind of parts?" So he goes on to tell me about the male parts and then the girl parts too.

He proceeds to say that when babies are first made that they are the same. They don't have "parts", I'm paraphrasing, seriously, I'm talking 7th gradish here...He goes on to say that the teacher says, then a doctor looks for the baby part, either the vagina or the penis and if it has a penis it is a boy. He then asks, "Wouldn't you just look for a penis Mom?" Yeah, that's my thought Son. Seriously, did your teacher really say that they look for a vagina? Sigh...public education health class at it's best.

The conversation then advances to, "Boys have two holes and girls have three. I thought that girls pee came out of their butt. So where do you wipe then Mom?" You wipe your vagina. "Ewwwww....that's gross. So what is the pee hole called?"

"Ummm...a pee hole?" Clearly biology and physical anatomy wasn't my forte in school. I asked if he inquired this of the teacher, which he did not.

So I posted for assistance on what others would call a "pee hole" or reference to a 7th grader on Facebook. What do you call a "pee hole"? According to the Sex Dictionary, "The pee hole (urethral opening) of girls can be found between the clitoris and vaginal opening."

But how fun is that??? What would YOU call a "pee hole"?

Speechless...almost

Approximately a half hour ago, after people wrapped up their lunch hour, I ventured into the conference room to heat my foot. In the silence and solitude, I finished my baked potato, most of my pork loin (leaving two slices) and water. The lid of the container of my pork was cracked in the corner and I decided I didn't need to bring it home to wash and use again. I put my water packet wrapper in the container, sealed it and threw it away in the garbage by placing it in someone's to go order garbage in the garbage can.

End of story. Until...

A few minutes ago I went back into the conference room to refill my water bottle. What did I see?

Next to the sink was my Glad container, minus the pork, with the wrapper in it. The pork was nowhere to be found.

It makes me think, makes me wonder, makes me question. Our conference room is only accessed by employees, or by clients accompanied by employees. Who would go through the garbage or need to? We are all employed and have stability, for today at least, or so I thought...

While it's clear that people need assistance and help, even when we least expect and often closer to home than we think, how do we go about offering to people when we don't know that they are in need?

I truly hope that maybe someone just thought that they could recycle or reuse the container. But regardless, it still makes me wonder nonetheless.

Bread & Knives

My son, for the life of him, can't seem to grasp the concept of how to use a knife, correctly. I have tried, for almost NINE years to teach him. I've tried to have others assist him. For some reason, he can't figure it out. I used to think that it was his fear of cutting himself, but even with butter knives he struggles! I do my best to not enable him and silently I laugh equally as hard as I wallow in misery while I watch him try to slice and dice anything on his dinner plate with futility.

This morning I had the rare opportunity to watch him make his sandwich. While there are coldcuts which would eliminate his need to spread jelly on bread, he has opted for his favorite PB&J. His hand is awkward. The jelly is smeared. His strokes are uneven and repetitive while the jelly remains little more than moved. It looks as though the knife is upside down. Is that really possible. It makes me reminisce of those that eat with their fork inverted, shoveling into their mouth. Why do these small nuances make the hair on the back of my neck raise? Does it really matter?

I say nothing and I continue to watch. What takes me a matter of moments to make a sandwich takes him minutes at best. What really gets to me the most though, all knife usage aside, is that he has spread the peanut butter on the wrong side of the bread! I can see prior to when he smashes his two pieces together that the bread is like a polar opposite. While they shall stick together, they will repel in only a way that two pieces of bread can.

Fortunately for him, he is proud of his sandwich skills and it all tastes the same!