I HAVE HAD WEEZER STUCK IN MY HEAD FOR DAYS, PEOPLE. Do you KNOW what this is DOING TO ME? And Weezer is just not the band to have stuck in your head when you're trying to hurry up and get over a completely inappropriate crush. Just saying.
People who've known me for a while (you know who you are) are accustomed to me being, well, me. When I meet new people, it's always a little challenging. I mean, I've kind of bounced around for the first 30 years of my life trying different things. People who've known me for a while know this, but people who are just meeting me for the first time get kind of weirded out. Take the following statement: I am an alumna of a sorority.
You have a certain image in your head. Doesn't matter what. Could be a dumb blonde with big rack. Could be a complete snob. Then take the next statements:
I have a chemistry degree from a top private university and a public health degree from a top public health program. Okay, now reconcile it with the first statement. Your image has been refined-- probably more of a snob. Parents probably white collar professionals, if not bohemian artist types. Take the next statement:
I was a girl scout and attended Catholic school for 13 years. Goody two shoes. Totes. Then take the next step:
Former junior volunteer firefighter. Former Jeopardy! champ. Okay, wait. That's kind of pushing the limits of credibility, isn't it? Shit just comes up in conversation-- do you have any sort of first aid/ emergency experience? Well, yes, I had CPR and first aid certs for a long time that I just let lapse, and I was a vollie for two years. And I was defacto floor marshal at my former job thanks to working evenings. I mentioned missing my burgundy hair, then had to find the only easily found photo of me with burgundy hair to prove that it works with my complexion-- my Jeopardy! photo. So I talked about J! and firefighting today to coworkers. It's awkward, because it makes me feel like I'm bragging. Jeopardy was a lot of fun, but it's not like I did super well. Firefighting is hard work-- and sometimes, people die. Tragedy does not make for pleasant conversation. It's just, people ask how you know something or about your experiences or whatever, and stuff comes up. I just happen to be like a minor league Forrest Gump who's happened to have a variety of weird experiences-- nothing glamorous like more fortunate acquaintances that have had the money and time to travel extensively and do all kinds of cool stuff, but way more than a kid from the Mon Valley usually has under their belt. And it makes me really uncomfortable when people make a big deal about stuff-- like my cube neighbor, who told, like, everyone that I was on Jeopardy. I mean, it's cool and all, and he was just being nice, but I'm really uncomfortable with that much attention. And then I'm worried that the people he told thought I was some kind of braggart wanting my ego stoked. You know what I mean?
Anyway. Just something that bugged today. My mom, being my mom, would probably just tell me that I should be proud, blah blah blah. But that's what moms say.