1. I got hit on today. By a 23 year old named Eugene. While on the bus. So...there's that. Other things related to this: when he first sat down next to me, he kept SHIFTING and kind of crowding my space. I'm generally used to men doing this - there's some weird social thing about men taking up space while women compact themselves (Meghan? Back me up on this?) but...it was annoying. So I was already displeased with him. But really, dude is either REALLY brave or REALLY socially inept. I had my headphones in and was messing around on my phone, what part of that says "I am open for conversation!" ? But dude just said excuse me and asked me "if i was a grad student" (Personally, I would have asked about my phone, since that's what I was actually focusing on, it would have been a better intro, if we're in the business of critiquing others' bravery) and then kept asking questions and answering the same about himself. I was polite and nice but didn't ask him very many questions. I mean, I don't care how hot a person is, if the following interaction happens, game OVER:

him: when did you graduate?
me: 2005
him: that's when i graduated high school!

no, just...no.

The final weird thing was that once he started talking to me, this older woman sitting in front of our row switched to a seat on the other side of our aisle, looked back at me and - though she was wearing sunglasses - I could tell she was giving me this "OOOOOH GIIIIIIIIIIIRRRLLLLLL" look. I just kind of stared at her and hoped I could convey my "Eh? He's sweet and I don't want to be a bitch?" face.

2. I got glasses. I am bespectacled. Old Four Eyes McGee. Missy helped me pick the glasses. I ended up choosing the same frames in different colors as part of a B1G1 promotion...and yeah, I went with one of the first pairs I tried on and "didn't really like" and then proceeded to try on about twelve hundred other pairs, only to come back to the ones I now own. Missy is a saint.

3. I started singing lessons about a month ago. I'm not very good but I've always liked singing, it makes me happy. And it's tough when your friends are in chorus and theatre and can sing the pants off anyone and then you're like "I like it too, secretly" but you're not confident and you just want a pleasant singing voice, not the pipes of your Christinas or your Whitneys or Mariahs or your Rebecca Blacks. (HA, I'M HILARIOUS). So it's fun. And no, I won't sing for you or sing vocals on Rock Band or Guitar Hero. But if we're driving somewhere and the radio is on I might be singing along and you can listen a little. BUT ONLY A LITTLE. Ugh.

UPDATE: one more thing!

4. I added something to the mystery gift hall-table! a box of mini-farfalle, sealed and unopened of course. Was that a good thing to give? I hope it's gone by the time I get home!


meghan said...

1. I don't really know about the personal space men/women thing, but sounds reasonable. I do, however, know that he's probably a low self-monitor, meaning that a) he doesn't pick up on social cues and/or b) he doesn't care about abiding by social cues. Also, he's obviously inept at decoding nonverbal behavior. So... when are you two getting married?

2. Welcome to the club!

3. What if there was a Sister Act version of Rock Band? Would you sing then? Would you!?

4. LOVE that you posted.

KK said...

I am very interested to know what happens to the box of pasta. Do tell!

Also, I sort of, totally, completely, overwhelmingly know what you mean about singing. I always want to bust out singing in public, but then remember that I am terrified of it. But let me tell you, in my car alone, I am the next Mariah-Whitney-Christina (without the crack, alcohol or marriage to Nick Cannon).

I heart the glasses.

ro! said...

LOVE that you are taking singing lessons. i've always wanted to do that. we need to go for a long car ride. now.