Errr….

My friend Sam says that I inspire awkward moments. I’m not sure how to take that.

I mean, yes, awkward things happen to me. I am often awkward. But that happens to everyone…right?

Quick, tell me something awkward that happened to you recently so I don’t start feeling awkward about how awkward I am! (Yup, that was an awkward sentence…)

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Letter to my future child

One day, my friend Erin and I were discussing how everything on the Internet lives forever and how just about anything can be found in a Google search, when the conversation shifted to how that probably means that if/when I have kids, they will someday find this blog. We concluded that the only thing to do was the write a post to them now, just to head off any awkwardness later. This is that post. FOR THE RECORD I AM NOT PREGNANT NOR PLANNING ON IT ANY TIME SOON. Again, NOT PREGNANT. Now carry on:

Oh…heeeeey there. So I guess…you found this.

If you’re in your mid-20s, hopefully we’re the same person and you now think I’m awesome. Or hopefully you’re like your dad and really like me even when I’m weird.

If you’re in your teens, you’re probably mildly humiliated. Sorry for being weird.

If you’re under the age of 10, WHAT ARE YOU DOING USING THE COMPUTER UNSUPERVISED???

So now you know that you mom wrote (writes? did I keep this up?) a blog. AND that she had the foresight to assume posterity would someday discover it. Wacky, huh?

See? I know EVERYTHING.

Actually, I’m kind of glad this happened. There’s a pretty good chance that (because I’m your mom) you only see me as a parent. (Unless you are in your mid-20s, in which case you might have discovered that I’m a human being too.) But in case that hasn’t happened yet, this will help.

I started this blog because a college professor told me I should have one. I kept it up because I really enjoyed it. I kept it up even when I didn’t enjoy it because I knew that stopping might mean I would stop for good. And the fact is, the best part about having a written record of my young adult life is that I will always have this perspective.

I can look back on the post I wrote right after I moved to New York and remember how mildly panicked I was at having my whole life up in the air. I can look back at the post I wrote the weekend your dad asked me to be his girlfriend and remember how excited I was about the possibilities. I can read the post I wrote the morning of our wedding, and even though it’s brief, remember the sweet, joyful emotions I felt while sitting on that couch in my hotel room typing frantically on my phone.

So basically, you found my diary. And since you obviously read it, I have no qualms about reading yours when I find it.

I’m kidding.

(But seriously.)

I feel like I should be using this opportunity to give you some kind of profound advice, but the fact is (as you can probably tell from my posts), you pretty much just have to figure things out as you go. (Plus I’m not anywhere near a parent yet, so I have no idea where to start.)

Obviously there are a lot of personal things I’ve learned that I can tell you (we still talk right? Oh man, I hope I’m not dead when you find this, that would be really awkward…) and hopefully I’ve set a good example for you in the “how to be a real-live adult” thing, but in general, you’re going to make mistakes. You’re going to take jobs you hate and your priorities are going to change. You’re going to make friends, and you’re going to lose them.

Life is going to be so unapologetically cruel one day, and on another you will be humbled by how wonderful things can be. And for me, writing every bit of it out just…helped. It helped and it helps me get through the good and the bad.

So I guess that’s the extend of my profundity. (And because I’m your mom, I know you read a lot your whole life and appreciate my use of the word “profundity.”) Regardless of what’s happening in your life or how old you are, I hope you know that I always want us to be at least as honest with each other as I am in these posts.

So…that got kind of heavy. This post started as a joke. It was supposed to be a funny post. It was supposed to help AVOID awkwardness!

Well, if there’s one thing this blog should teach you about me, it’s that I’m usually awkward no matter what. Odds are, you are too. (Sorry about that…) I guess what all this means is that I hope you’ll let me know when you find this.

Now go clean your room.

I should probably be embarrassed

So yesterday, my work had a product sale for employees to clean out the store room. Meaning kitchenware and dinnerware goods for low, low prices.

And I think I legit pulled a muscle in my arm shopping.

It’s partly my own fault. I’m the one who decided the only things she wanted were the two heaviest things available (silverware service for 12 and a cast iron dutch oven)(dutch oven…teehee).

Getchyo mind outa the gutter.

But the fact remains.

My name is Justine, and I have a shopping-induced injury.

White girl problems.

It’s not you; it’s me.

Do you ever just instantly not like someone?

I mean, not just think they’re sort of strange, but genuinely dislike them upon meeting? When they haven’t even had a chance to do anything to make you not like them?

I’m really hoping I’m not the only person this happens to, because then I’ll feel like a jerk.

And I say “happens to,” because I sincerely think it is beyond my powers of control. I don’t go into the meeting thinking, “Oh boy, I really can’t wait to be uncomfortable every time we are together!” It just…happens.

And because I’m such a bad liar about my opinions, I feel like it’s really apparent every time I have to talk to said person that I don’t like them, so it really is uncomfortable when we have to talk.

And since I know they didn’t actually do anything to make me not like them, I know I’m being a jerk and hate that.

Therefore, it’s out of my control.

Seriously, does anyone else do this?

Well…this is weird.

You know what we haven’t talked about in a while? My hair.

So I’ve noticed lately that it does this kind of weird thing. I got layers cut into it recently. (Oh yeah, I actually got that haircut I hinted at. AND I resisted the urge to tell you about it. That’s growth, people.)(Though not literally. ZING!) Ever since then, something sort of bizarre happens every time I curl it, which is fairly often.

I usually do this sort of wavy curl, but the longer I go without washing my hair afterward (TMI? You know I have no shame.), the more it starts to go from Rapuzel wave to straight-up Goldilocks. As in, it’s gets less wavy and more curly.

Shouldn’t it be the opposite? Shouldn’t my hair want to revert to its naturally straight-ish form? Shouldn’t the greasier it gets, the more it is weighed down and not up? Shouldn’t I be washing my hair more?

Obviously, this is a pressing issue you should all drop what you’re doing and work on for me. I’ll expect a full report at oh-800 hours.

(St)ring theory

I got hit on in Moe’s again.

And whereas the last time I could tell myself that they were just being friendly, this time was a little more blatant. Unless the phrase “get a cup of coffee sometime” doesn’t mean “I’m into you” anymore. I’ve been out of the dating game a while, so you’ll have to forgive me if I’m reading things wrong.

To be fair, the guy was really nice about it. I’m pretty lucky in that I only seem to get asked out by really polite guys. (IDEA! I should start taking their information and create a database of nice guys to introduce to nice girls I know! Million-dollar plan, anyone?) He apologized for interrupting my lunch and asked me to get the aforementioned cup of coffee so we could “get to know each other.”

Naturally, I got awkward, got a case of nervous giggles, and told him he was very nice but I’m married. He returned to his friends waiting outside, and I blushed furiously while wondering if anyone around me had seen. Basically, the same thing that happens to you in middle school minus the “do you like me? check box yes or no” note. And, you know, the marriage excuse.

I don’t know why, but I kind of expected to stop getting hit on after I got married. I mean, I’m walking around with a “I’M NOT AVAILABLE” sign on my finger. It’s not exactly subtle.

Or is it?

I started telling my friend Megan about what had happened, and she related a similar experience where a guy at a work event chatted her up for a while and then asked for her number. Her rings were in plain sight, but the guy seemed painfully oblivious.

People still do the ring check, right? I mean, I know up until I started dating Joey, I still did it. But maybe it’s just a girl thing? Because the guy who asked me out looked genuinely surprised that I was married. Can any of my (albeit few) male readers chime in here?

Or maybe it doesn’t have to do with gender so much as the fact that Megan and I are in our 20s. Are other people in their 20s just assuming that people our age aren’t married yet? If so, that’s just irresponsible.

Anyone else have any theories about this?