We've got a problem

What?  Me?  Socially awkward?  Why, Never!

I came to a sudden realization yesterday and I’ll tell you what, it was not a realization I ever wanted to have.
REALIZATION NUMERO UNO:

I am socially awkward.

It happened at Wal-mart, as do most important revelations in my life. What better place for a little personal inspiration than while wedged between overripe produce and overweight women?

I was moseying along, enjoying myself as I did my grocery shopping.

Scratch that sentence.

I was rushing along, hating every second of my grocery shopping and trying to get it over as quickly as possible.

Yes, that is more like it.

You know how I do grocery shopping, don't you?  Like a rabbit on crack cocaine. Grocery list in hand, stack of coupons, price matched items listed, and go go go! If I do the shopping in under an hour, I reward myself with a candy bar at the check out stand and an episode of reality TV.

I was frantically trying to find the pineapple juice when I about darn near ran smack into an old friend, Helen.  Helen and I were close friends at one point in our lives, sharing boyfriend woes and sluffing classes together.  A normal person would have been happy to casually run into an old friend at the store.

Which does not explain why instead of saying, “Oh, hi! So great to see you!" I did a 360, bolted right away from that friend of mine and hid in the nearby aisle.

I know what you're thinking.  This is getting weird.  Why wouldn't she want to talk to an old friend?   Let me just tell you that no one agrees with you more than myself.  It is weird. And I have no explanation for my erratic behavior. It’s just that sometimes I see people I used to know years ago and I don’t want to talk to them. I’d rather finish my shopping race, go home, and relax. I don’t feel like chit chatting, asking questions about people I never see, and pretending to be interested.  Sometimes all I want more than anything else in the world is to go home and sit on the couch.

I hid behind a display of green beans. Had she seen me? Was I safe? Should I just say hi? My breathing was heavy and irregular. A sweat droplet trickled down my forehead.

After several minutes of stalling and deliberating, I formed a plan of action. I’d go to the opposite side of the store and work backward, thus avoiding shopping next to her.

PLAN OF ACTION:  Fail.

Somehow she was everywhere I was. I hurried down to the milk aisle and Helen was there.  I went back up to the chips and Helen followed close behind.  Everytime I saw her I looked the other way, or acted insanely interested in the yogurt label. Let me tell you, I studied that grocery list I have never studied anything before. I knew the risks involved here.  Eye contact would be fatal.

I watched Helen from the corner of my eye as she slowly made her way toward the register.  About dang time that girl left me in peace.  I was rid of her and now I could finally choose my tortilla shells in peace.

And then out of nowhere, like a thief in the night, there she was, strolling down the tortilla aisle!  The nerve of the girl!  I mean, come on, how many times can you reasonably pretend to not see someone?  I enthusiastically checked my phone.  My eyes stayed down.  No looking up, Bonnie.  We did not come this far just to waste it in the fourth quarter!

Is this getting to be a bit much?  I'm sorry.  I'll try to tone it down a bit, but I can make no guarantees.

I could feel Helen's gaze on me. I knew she recognized me, and I knew she was staring me down. But like a child in trouble, I refused to look back.

After what seemed like decades of her cold hard stare down, she walked on. Without a word.

It wasn’t until I was in my car driving home that I realized how strange the whole encounter (more like non-encounter) was, and more than anything I was struck by how strange my own behavior was. Who sees someone they know and runs like a bat out of hell? Wouldn’t it have been much easier to just say, “Oh, hi Helen. So good to see you again. You have a kid now? Wow, that’s great. I didn’t know you were living in Provo…” and save myself the stressful runaway fugitive game?

In that moment it dawned on me.

There is something wrong with me.

I am socially awkward.

Instead of handling that situation like a socially adept person, I LITERALLY ran away.  And this isn’t the first time this has happened either. I frequently avoid conversations with people even when I know them well. Once several years ago I was at the mall with friends when I saw my brother.  I immediately bolted into the nearby store.  My friend wanted to know what the freak was my problem. When I told her I was avoiding my brother she asked, “Do you not get along with your brother?”

“No, we get along fine.”

“Are you mad at him?”

“No, not at all.”

“Are you not supposed to be here?”

“What?  Who cares if I’m at the mall?  I'm an adult.”

“Exactly. You’re an adult. So why are you hiding from your own brother?”

Speechless.

Finally I replied weakly, “Sometimes I just don’t want to see people, that’s all.”

That was all I could answer.

And that was all I could answer yesterday, stuck in Wal-mart, grocery list in hand, running helplessly from one of my good childhood friends.

Will you please just tell me that I'm not that weird and you do it all the time too?

It'd make me feel a lot better.

Christmas Shopping

First things first.  You need to know that today marks nine months exactly since Hubs and I tied that knot.  Had we conceived on our wedding night I would be birthing a baby today.  We did not conceive on our wedding night.  And I am not birthing a baby today.  But it's the thought that counts, and boy what a thought!  Just let that blow your mind for a minute. 

One of my favorites... is it weird that I LOVE all the goofy pics?

Next... this weekend I set out with mi madre to do a bit of Christmas shopping. 

The items on my Christmas list were as follows:
- Some new jeans (I am down to one pair that is wearable)
- Boots that I can wear to semi-formal events but that don't look like hooker boots
- A new dress.  Because every girl loves a pretty dress.

What?  When you go Christmas shopping it's not just for you?  Oh... I thought that's what everyone meant when they said they went Christmas shopping...

First and foremost, I dragged my mom into Forever 21 and begged her for two new pairs of skinny jeans.  She didn't put up much of fight.  There was a day when my mom vehemently opposed skinny jeans, but I guess somewhere along the way she realized there are worse things in life than a 25 year old daughter who wears skinny jeans on the weekend.

CrazyA accompanied us on our shopping excursion.  Her main job was to entertain my mom while I was in the dressing room.  She did so by shocking my mom with every outlandish and inappropriate thing that could possibly escape from her mouth.  To top it all off, CrazyA weasled her way under the dressing room door to watch me change while I yelled "get out of here you perv!" and my mom giggled from the other side of the door. The sales associate no doubt was trying to stop the whole thing, but what can you do when you turn around and a grown woman is crawling under the door trying to harrass her friend? Absolutely nothing.

Next stop was boots.  I knew exactly what I wanted.  Tan.  Knee High.  Zipper on the side. We found it without much of a problem.  And not just any zipper on the side, either, a RED zipper on the side. 


 I'm in love.  It's practically all I've been able to think about since we bought them.  I'm so obsessed that I think Hubs might be worrying that I am going to run away with these boots.  It's a valid concern.

Our last task was to find a dress.  This was the hardest of the three since not many stores sell dresses.  Our first stop was Macy's where the sales girl was a girl I taught at Timpview.  My how they grow.  It was slightly uncomfortable to have a former student pulling me dresses and coming in to check if everything was okay while I flaunted my white, hairy legs in dresses that were much too tight for me. I mean, I'll let my mom see that as much as she wants, but former students?  Yes.  Uncomfortable is a good word for it.

After several dresses we decided on one that was flattering and elegant.  It was an Audrey Hepburn type dress. 

Then my mom insisted on checking the tag.

Three awful words.

Dry clean only.

My mom absolutely refuses to buy any clothing that is dry clean only.  I insisted I would keep it clean, and it wasn't a big deal to run it to the dry cleaner every once in a while.  Mom didn't budge.  We wouldn't buy the dress.  It wasn't worth it.

At this point, I was burnt out.  Yes, all the shopping we were doing was for selfish little old me, but I was exhausted.  My mom, who has the shopping stamina of a stallion, was just warming up.  We stopped at another store and I tried on every dress there before we found one we both liked.  Not as cute as the Audrey Hepburn dress, but it would do.  I took it off and my mom went to pay.

Thirty seconds later she was back outside my dressing room.  "Bonnie.  You're never going to believe this.... but I checked the tag..."

Yep.

Dry clean only.

I was done done done at that point.  I put my jeans back on and decided that a Christmas dress would not be in the cards for me.  Mom on the other hand, was not ready to admit defeat.  She found another dress, the right size, not dry clean only, etc, etc.  The only catch was that I had to try it on.

I refused.

A girl can only try on so many dresses.

I realize how ridiculous this all sounds.  But please.

Pity me.

My mom bought the dress anyway.  My approval or no, the dress would be purchased and the item crossed off the list.

Moving on... Saturday was Hubs shopping day.  Hubs is getting a suit for Christmas.  I discovered during our shopping excusions this weekend that Hubs is much less picky than I am.  He liked all the suits.  Pinstripes, black, gray, he was just tickled pink with every suit we showed him.  He picked a suit easily, found the right size, and was on his merry way in a matter of minutes. That's why I married him, folks.  WHY I MARRIED HIM.

While my mom talked to a friend in the store, Hubs and I went to check out the pet department.  Yes, the pet department.  You see, there are quite a few dog lovers on Hubs side of the family, so we thought this department might lend itself to some easy Christmas shopping for us.  We looked at all sorts of pet paraphenelia:  bones, clothes, toys, beds, etc.

We had something all picked out when my mom came over to approve our purchase.

Of course... the infamous question....

"Did you check the tag?"

No, we hadn't.

"Spot clean only,"  mom read.  "No good.  You have to be able to put it in the washing machine."

And so the pet furniutre was left at the store. 

And we are left still wondering what to get certain people for Christmas.

Why do moms always have to remember to check the tags? 

Curse those washing instructions.

DON'T FORGET:  The Holiday Giveaway is going on now until Wednesday at 5:00.  To be entered simply follow this blog or post your favorite entry on your facebook wall.  If you do both, you get entered twice!


Who wants to win earrings?!?



Black Friday

If you are in to laughing at people you have never met before, please note the lady mid right
with the gray hair and double chin.

It makes sense that I would be in love with Black Friday.  After all, I am the girl who price matches every item she buys and refuses to get a 12 pack of coke if it's 60 cents overpriced.

But I'm not in love with Black Friday.

Here's the problem.  Black Friday overwhelms me.  There are too many good deals.  I feel like I am being attacked by hundreds of dollars of savings everywhere I turn, but I can only handle saving dollars and cents.  Black Friday massive savings deals are too advanced, too scary for me- I'm still just an amateur at this whole saving money thing.

I saw the ads.  I know I could have saved on just about anything- TVs, cameras, Xboxes, furniture, clothes, computers, etc.  Half off!  Hundred dollar savings! Opening at midnight!  The ads flashed in my face.  But it all just intimidated me instead of excited me.   So I ignored the "screaming deals", (That's my mom's official term) slept in on Friday morning, and tried to pretend that the rest of the world wasn't out saving thousands of dollars while I was snuggled deep down under my plush down comforter.

My best friend, CrazyA called Friday morning around nine.  I knew exactly what she wanted.  She wanted to know if I was still planning on going shopping with her- as the plan had been for the last week.

I ignored the phone call.  If I didn't go out shopping, I would never know what great deals I was missing out on, right?

Thirty seconds later, CrazyA texted, "We still going shopping?"

I didn't return the text.

Then she called again.

And that's how I ended up meeting her in the parking lot half an hour later. I invited Hubs to come along. He said he would rather choke himself. That settled that.

(Random side note:  Getting into our car, we were approached by two Colombians, a man and a woman, needing a ride to the mall.  We were happy to give them a lift, and when we dropped them off at the mall, we asked if they would be needing a ride back.  They said probably not, because they were intending to buy a mattress, and they wouldn't be able to fit that into our car.  Which leaves us to wonder, exactly how were they planning to get that mattress back to their apartment?)

We didn't hit our first store until 10:30, and I was convinced we would have missed all the best deals by now.  But miracle upon miracles, we didn't!  In fact, we scored several great Black Friday deals.  And it wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it would be!  In fact, it was easy!

Now, I can't go into too much detail about said screaming deals, because most of the people that I was buying for read this blog.  So I will just give you some vague clues so you can be impressed with how much money I saved.  Be impressed!

50% off gift certificates to an anonymous place to eat
50% off gift certificates to an anonymous place that offers some kind of pampering service
60% off an unlimited amount of anonymous entertainment
30% off pieces of anonymous clothing/accessories

And that's all I can tell you!  No more hints, you little snoops!

Black Friday better watch out.  Now that I've done it once, there's no stopping me.  Next Black Friday is going to be epic.  (Yes, I said epic even though I hate the word.  Yes, I am ashamed of myself.)

Now it's Sunday night.  Sunday night at 8:00 is a hard hour for me.  It is the hour that I admit defeat and realize that the weekend doesn't last forever, Monday morning is indeed right around the corner, and that I can no longer ignore the stack of 160 research papers waiting to be graded.  Yes.  I said 160.

(Alright, listen students, if you're reading this, I'm making you a deal.  I won't show up if you don't show up.  Kapish?)