This little nugget of thought just popped into my head as I was about to sign off, so long 1 a.m. bed time it was nice to almost meet your acquaintance. I'm sure we would have been great friends, or at least casual business partners.
I really need to stop referring to inanimate objects and nouns like that. I don't want to be like my sister. Did you know she's 26 years old and talks to her stuffed penguin?
"Oh Mister Penguin I am so sorry you got knocked off the bed last night. Were you cold on the floor? It will not happen again, I promise."
or
"Now Doctor Jones you take care of my Katie now. We don't need her crashing or disappearing to Captiva again."
Endearing, really.
Anyway, the topic I would really love to discuss is why women say no when they really want to say yes. Okay maybe not women, maybe its just me. No, actually, it can't be just me. Have you ever wondering why, when women are offered another dessert or the last slice of pizza, they say no thanks? I do. Are you kidding me, Betty? I KNOW you want that last chocolate eclair. It's screaming your name. You're going to stare at it all through dinner and fantasize about it later while you're in bed. Just take it, come on. No? Okay, then. Your shameless husband is going to eat it and secretly, you'll hate him for it. The resentment and anger will grow and grow because he DOES eat the last slice of cherry pie, until one day you blow up when he forgets to close the cabinet door or doesn't put the lid down on the toilet seat. And he'll wonder why you're filing for divorce and suing for custody of the dog. And secretly, you'll know its because you said no when you really wanted to say yes.
What got me thinking about this?
Exhibit A: myself.
So here I am, it's a normal morning of exam period. I wake up, I stretch, I check my stock. Okay, I check my facebook...whatever. I have my power suit on, no, scratch that, it's sweatpants and a Triathlon hoodie. Looks aren't everything. Regardless, I am ready to rock this exam like it's Woodstock...or at least a really good Billy Joel concert. So I head down to the dining hall, it's about 7:00 a.m., a cool two hours before my exam seating. I want my yogrola, I want my burnt dining hall coffee only Felix can make, I want Nicole to make my omelette, and I want my table. My. Table. The table I sit at everyday, sometimes twice a day. My table that has been my table since freshman year. My table that I practically have carved my name into despite it being off-center and wobbly and always pushed up against the other tables awkwardly. My table where all those who know me who where to find me. Boy I love my table. At the end of my BU career I am coming into the dining hall, picking that table up, and putting it in my home.
So the nice little Asian slides me in and tells me the weather, as if I didn't already know, and as I'm picturing my color coated flow chart of the Citric Acid Cycle, something causes me to abruptly stop in my tracks. There is someone at my table. MY table.
My eyes narrow and my fist tightens around my 5 star notebook. What NERVE. I bet this sad excuse for a human being wanted to throw my exam schedule off. They want me to fail my class. My whole zen is off balance, I'm going to need therapy. Getting closer, getting closer, getting closer, oh shit. It's not just someone. \
**Okay slight interjection, excuse me for a moment. You know the guy who makes your palms sweaty? Who you know is there even before you see him? Who you can recognize walking up half a mile down the street? The guy who, when he is mentioned, you calmly say, "yeah we've met once or twice." While in all actuality if your life depended on it you could list off what he eats in the dining hall, who his friends are, and where he lived last year? Okay just so we're clear on who is sitting at my table.**
Okay, Katie, deep breath anddd CONFRONTATION.
"Excuse me, you are sitting at my table." Okay breathe through this one. That was funny right? It was definitely funny. Good girl.
"Hey Katie! Wait, What?"
"This is my table."
"Oh really? Were you sitting here?" He smiles. Okay he thought it was funny. Whew.
"Well no, but everyone knows this is my table! You must have missed the memo."
"Haha, are you mad at me now?"
"Yes actually."
"Well I didn't mean to...are you eating breakfast now? Do you want to sit?"
Can we pause for a moment?
The guy that makes me giggle, yes, giggle. And I rarely giggle. But he can do it by just walking by. Anyway, this guy just sort of hinted that, if I wanted to, I could sit with him.
YES! BANK! BRAVO! OF COURSE! I'VE BEEN DYING FOR YOU TO ASK ME!
And I say:
"Haha no I have to study, big exam. See you later!"
"Okay...good luck."
Excuse me, wait, what? Where the hell is that rewind button.
Oh, and then what do I do?
Sit two tables away in direct eye sight. Clever, Katie, real smooth. That's really good. Now you can just PRETEND to now be completely checking him out via peripherals.
Fastforward to the next day:
Scene: Mingo, the dog I walk everyday (I will not get into discussing his name, it's an embarrassment, to say the least.)
So after two weeks of walking this mutt everyday I came to find, through a rather awkward series of events that involved me thinking there was an intruder in the kitchen, creeping around the corner, and screaming, that Mingo's mom has a VERY tall, VERY attractive son. SCORE SCORE SCORE! AND Mingo's mom hinted that he said I was cute despite me almost whipping out my karate moves on him. Touchdown.
So today it's cold. And I mean cold. And it's slightly raining. And by that I mean sleeting, almost snow, but Boston didn't feel like it that day, whatevs. It's cool. And I just finished taking Mingo for his FULL hour long walk. Not only did I walk him, but I also bought him an obnoxious fat santa clause that squeaks when you squeeze his hands. I even let him parade it around the streets.
Dog walker of the year award goes toooo: me.
So I'm freezing my ass off. Hands are numb. Feet are wet. I take Mingo up to the house and...YES! Dog boy is in the building.
Him - Hey
Me - Hey! It's freezing out!
Him - Haha yeah I still can't get used to it
Me - Bye Mingo! (Pat on the head)
Him - Did you buy him that?
Me - Everyone needs a good christmas toy.
Him - Haha yeah, that's funny I like it...
Pause
Him - So uhhmm..Do you like...need a ride or something? I'm about to leave and I could drop you off...
Pause in scene: YES! BANK! BRAVO! DRIVE ME HOME!! I HOPE WE GET LOST IN THE THREE MINUTE, ONE ROAD CAR TRIP! I HOPE WE GET A FLAT TIRE! I LOVE WOULD TO RIDE IN YOUR CAR!
Me- Oh no it's fine I'm only going to campus, it's a short walk.
Him - Oh..okay..see you later then.
Did I really just say that? Exit, Katie. Get out the door. Do not gape at yourself in front of this boy. Out the door. No, do not stop there, he can still see you. Around the corner, there you, good girl. Okay now...begin self loathing: smack myself across the head, mock myself, stomp on the ground and curse my idiocy. Sure, I look like a complete schizophrenic but it's no worse than when Mingo decides to randomly take off in a dead sprint, dragging me after him. I'm sure the neighborhood thinks I'm...quirky. So then I trudge home. The day concludes with another smooth move by Katie.
I hope this whole, "saying no when I really want to say yes deal" isn't a new thing for me. Please, PLEASE just be a phase.
YES, I WOULD like to go to bed now.
Babysteps.
love love love,
me
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