[about the author]
i actually like speaking in front of large crowds. freakish,
i work crossword puzzles in ink.
i am the american nigella lawson. or maybe the american eddie
izzard. can't decide, really.
i would be a really good mom, but i'm cool with being a really
i am sometimes more perceptive than i would like to be.
i am fiercely loyal. sometimes, stupidly so.
i never play dumb. never.
i am way too hard on myself.
i am a change agent.
i sometimes cross that fine line between assertive and aggressive.
i am not afraid to tell people that i love them.
i am militantly pro-choice.
i am pro-adoption.
i know a little bit about alot of things.
i typically enjoy the company of men more than women.
i am capable of being really mean and nasty, but i fight it.
i am a lifelong cubs fan. do not laugh.
i have been known to hold a grudge.
i have hips.
i am not my sister.
i am lousy at forgiving myself.
i am an indoor kind of gal.
i am a bargain shopper. to the point of obsession.
i am 32 flavors. and then some.
yesterday's post. brought to you today. courtesy of the blaster worm.
i’m standing in my living room when the phone rings.
“jules! hey! what’s going on?”
“not too much. standing here in my living room, ironing a shirt.”
“so, you’re getting ready, huh? i’m on my way over there, thought i’d call and see what time you’re going to get there.”
“whenever i finish ironing this damn shirt.”
“it’s all about the shirt, huh?”
“oh, yeah…you have no idea what a difference the right shirt can make at one of these things. i was going to go with a whole john travolta saturday night fever thing – white suit with a black shirt. but it turns out that i’m more pulp-fiction-john-travolta size than saturday-night-fever-john-travolta size, so it just wasn’t going to happen with the white suit. quite a disappointment, really. anyway, now i’m just going to wear this tasteful, yet sexy-in-an-odd-kind-of-way tuxedo shirt.”
“uh-huh. right. okay. great. i was going to wear my tuxedo shirt, but now i can’t.”
guy: hi, i’m some guy.
me: hi. i’m julia…nice to meet you.
me: so…i’m new to 8 minute dating…have you been to one of these events before?
guy: yeah, i come to these all the time. the host is my roommate. i’m a filler. i was just here in case somebody didn’t show up, and some guy didn’t show up, so i’m filling in. usually everyone shows up, so i just get to sit around and eat the food.
me: oh. well. okay.
guy: so…i sell insurance. do you need any insurance?
me: no, i’m good on insurance. but i’m pretty sure i need some more vodka.
guy: hi, i’m some guy.
me: hi there, some guy. my name is julia…nice to meet you.
guy: so…where are you from?
me: i’m from west virginia…
guy: i love west virginia. i go over to harper’s ferry a lot. i’m really an outdoors person.
me: you know, it’s funny…i never went to harper’s ferry until i moved away from west virginia. but it seems like everyone over here in the dc area has been.
guy: yeah. that is funny.
me: so…what kind of work do you do?
guy: i’m glad you asked. i run this website called iwillnotshamelesslypromotehiswebsite.com. you should check us out. we’re growing really fast. it’s finally making money. you really should check it out. write down the url.
me: oh, okay. you know, i actually write online myself…
guy: okay, you have a pen? here’s the url…
me: uh-huh. got it.
guy: so…did you do any rafting in west virginia?
me: oh yeah! i love to whitewater raft!
at this point, i get really excited because i really do love whitewater rafting. a lot. and i’m sort of an…um…animated person, and i’m gesturing around and, suddenly, everything is in slow motion. and i see the pen leave the grip of my fingers. and fly through the air. and hit him squarely in the forehead.
me: oh my god! oh my god! are you okay?
guy: [looks dazed] uh…yeah. yeah.
and then i can’t help it. i start laughing. because…well, because, come on...that was awesome. i mean, he’s perfectly fine. i didn’t put his eye out. that was a classic moment right there. except i seem to be the only one at our table who thinks so.
guy: well, it was…uh…nice to meet you.
me: i’m so sorry about the whole hitting-you-in-the-head thing. really. but, you know…at least no one lost an eye or anything, right?
guy: yeah. well, good luck. you’re a very…um…energetic person.
me: hi, i’m julia.
me: how are you doing this evening?
guy: i am very well. thank you very much for asking.
me: so…what was the best movie you saw this summer?
guy: i do not go to movies very often.
me: oh, okay…well, were you lucky enough to take a vacation this year? go anywhere exciting or fun?
me: okay…so, what do you like to do with your free time?
guy: i do not really have free time. i work very long hours.
me: oh, so what sort of work do you do?
guy: i am a systems engineer.
me: i work for a law firm.
my friend: so, how’s the shirt working?
me: oh, it’s golden. this shirt? like a flame to a moth. like honey to a bee. like…water to a duck.
my friend: so, you haven’t met anyone either then?
my friend: so, we’re just getting drunk at this point then?
me: pretty much, yeah. and hoping they bring out some more free food.
me: hi there…i’m julia. it’s nice to meet you.
me: so, are you having a good time so far this evening?
guy: not really.
me: oh…sorry about that.
guy: where are you from?
me: i’m from west virginia. how about you? are you from this area originally?
guy: you don’t really seem like someone from west virginia.
me: huh. well, i get that from time to time. for some reason i seem to get a lot of guesses for chicago…not sure why, though.
guy: you don’t seem like someone from west virgina.
me: yeah…right…but i am. go figure, huh?
me: so…where would you have guessed i was from? just out of curiosity….
guy: i don’t know. but i would have guessed you were from some rich family.
me: huh. well. um. no…i actually grew up pretty poor.
me: so…again, just curiosity on my part…what made you think i was rich?
guy: i don’t know. that shirt, i guess.
me: hmm. okay. so, what about you? where are you from?
guy: i’m from the area around here.
during this silence, the guy is just kind of looking around. he’s looking at other tables. he’s even looking out the window. he even goes so far as to make a comment about some guy he sees out the window. all of these things lead me to believe that maybe – just maybe – he’s not really paying very much attention to me.
all doubt is erased moments later.
guy: so…where are you from?
me: texas. i grew up on a ranch in texas. we raised llamas.
guy: i like your shirt.
me: oh, thank you!
guy: it’s very…pirates of the caribbean.
guy: i like your shirt. it’s pretty cool.
guy: yeah…it’s kind of…i don’t know…prince.
guy: that’s a nice shirt you have there.
me: yeah, i’m beginning to get that impression.
guy: what do you mean?
me: well, my shirt seems to be quite the topic of conversation this evening. i think one person said it was, basically, the shirt of the rich. or at least the shirt of the upper middle class. i don't know...it was a little vague. then, someone else said it was very pirates of the caribbean, which might be a very high compliment, but i haven’t seen the film, so i’m not entirely sure. then, the last guy said it was very prince. and by prince, i am assuming he meant the-artist-formerly-known-as and not prince william. not sure what to make of that one.
guy: well, i can see how it would be confusing.
me: how so?
guy: well, did he mean it in a purple rain kind of way, or was it more of a diamonds and pearls kind of way?
me: excellent point.
guy: i think that makes all the difference.
[ding ding ding]
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