Um, but maybe not THAT much…
I’m a bit of a spaz.
Right now, Miss D is squinting her eyes at me as she reads this. See, she hates when I say stuff like that about myself. But in this instance? I only speak the truth.
I DO NOT TELL LIES, Miss D . And you can’t stop me from being honest about my status as a HUGE spaz.
We can all agree on the Internet being fairly rad, yes? And while I was home sick, I very nearly found the end of the Internets. Seriously. It was almost compulsive clicking, going from website to website, video to video, blog to blog. And now, as I get ready for work in the morning, I kind of dread sitting in front of a computer all day long.
It wasn’t all bad though. As I was reading Indy’s blog (because he gives great insight on the psyche of the male species), I started clicking on random links, which led me to this bit of advice for women everywhere. And do you know, it made sense to me? So simple! A smile! I can do that.
Again, I am a spaz. (And you can narrow your eyes at me all you want, Miss D , *sir*. I am about to prove this to you. To *all* of you.)
For lunch today, I decided I wanted some soup and the best decaf latte in all of Seattle. There was a boy in line behind me who was kind of a cutie. I then had a little conversation with myself:
Alida to Alida: All you have to do is smile at him. You’re a smiley gal. This shouldn’t be too tricky for you. You are composed, you are confident, you’ve been using Quick Dissolve Tooth-Whitening Strips…you’re ready.
I can’t argue with myself, so I got ready for The Big Smile Experiment, 2008. I ordered my soup, waited for my latte, and kept my face ready, poised to light up at precisely the right moment. Right as the barista handed over my tasty beverage, Cute Boy finished his transaction and got to the door a split second before me.
He held the door open for me as I took a sip of my latte.
I smiled at him, a little smile.
He smiled right back, a full-toothed grin.
Encouraged, empowered, and inspired, I flashed him my biggest, happiest, most confident smile EVER.
And all the latte in my mouth went *cascading* down my chin.
His nice grin turned into a pitying expression of, “Uh. Hm. Did she *really* just spit her latte at me?”
And my smile turned into a resigned expression of, “Yes. Yes I actually *did* just spit my latte at you, sir. And that’s about right because that’s how I roll.”
So he went his way, I went mine, waiting until he’d turned the corner before I furiously tried to dry the latte from my face and shirt, while having a new, more different conversation with myself:
Alida to Alida: Moron.
In my evaluation of The Big Smile Experiment 2008, I see the following hiccups in my methodology:
1) I over thought.
2) I forgot myself.
3) I tried to do more than one thing at a time.
4) I am me.
It’s okay though. Lessons were learned today, you guys. Big lessons. Valuable lessons.
Clearly, he was not the guy for me. I’m sure of this. Because if he were the guy for me?
He totally would have taken a quick sip of his green tea and spit it right back at me.