Sunday, December 23, 2007

I am made of win

If we sweat all these debts then we're sure to drown

For anyone who doesn't know, I've been nominated for Best Girlfriend Ever. Sweet Christmas presents + infinite patience = I am made of win.

It's become apparent to me in the last 22 years that my face is, as They say, an open book. Taking my lack of emotional depth into consideration, I'd really hate to see the faces I'd pull if I was capable of feeling the full range of things. My freshmen year in college I was playing the part of fashion consultant for my roommate during a trip to Old Navy. This involved me sitting on a bench in the dressing room and giving her an appreciative nod or an unsure grimace when she came out in a new outfit. During this time, a little boy kept running out to show his mom the clothes she was making him try on, and as they were leaving the dressing area, the mom came up to me and thanked me, "Your facial expressions as you watched him come out every time really helped me make decisions!"

Yes, I'm that transparant.

Yesterday I spent some time with The Boy, and he mistook my quiet pensiveness for "grumpiness". To the contrary, I was feeling quite plesant yesterday, but was simply preoccupied with other thoughts. It seems that this preoccupation manifested itself in distant gazes, pursed lips, and a decline in my usual chattiness, which are often signs of grumpiness in your average person. However, if I was, indeed, grumpy, it would have been much more apparent. There would have been frequent sighing, plentiful eye-rolling, and the occasional derisive snort, all compiled with short, snippy responses.

My emotions, when I have them, are quite simple. Ironically, this often confuses those who have to deal with me and complicates matters.

I do, however, have a tendency to leave things unsaid. I've waxed eloquent in the past about my conversational retardation, and this disability of mine causes whatever "meaningful conversations" I manage to have to be painfully brief, to the point, and often leaves a lot of gaping "detail" holes. At the time, I simply want the conversation to be over, because I'm embarrassed to have to be having it in the first place, so the main points get covered, a basic conclusion is reached, and we're done. Later, however, I worry that I didn't say enough, that the little nuances of my simple emotions weren't conveyed properly, that the situation wasn't presented seriously enough, and I worry about it for a whole lot longer than I really should, and end up having a second painfully brief converstion that usually goes something like this:

"So... about that other conversation..."
"Yeah?"
"I just wanted to touch bases and, uh, make sure that we both understand what I meant."
"I got it."
"You do?"
"Yeah, I know."
"Oh...okay then."

I probably just need to put more faith in my conversational counterparts. It'd save me a lot of grief.

Underground,
Cathi

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