New People Take Awhile To Turn Into New Friends...

I help out at youth group. Thought that would be a super way to give back. Um, yeah. I'm afraid of teenage girls. Was when I was a teenager...still am. In an attempt to lessen that anxiety (of being in a huge room with tons of 13 year old girls I don't yet know...or any other adult for that matter) I try and strike up a conversation with some other leaders-they know kids (or a least know how to act around them). So in walks this girl and I KNOW HER. That's the intern's wife. Mikayla!! I yell. And she looks at me strangely. Hmmm...maybe that's because we've NEVER ACTUALLY MET! OOOH..that's right. I have facebook stalked her before. Probably should have kept that one to myself. Um, yeah.
So she walks over.
"Hi" I say, and stick out my hand to shake hers."You don't know me but I know Seth, your Mikayla right"
"Yeeeeah..."
"My hand's not sweaty" I say. (WAIT>>>>WHAT!?!?! I'm sorry, is this your first public appearance? WHO SAYS THAT!!!)
She just stares awkwardly at me...I"m staring awkwardly at my hand and then I awkwardly close my eyes and take a deep breath. I shake my head (while constant streams of WHAT THE CRAP IS WRONG WITH YOU run through my head). "I mean, its not sweat, its condensation. I had a cup in my hand and it was condensating. So its not sweat its condensation from the cup. I do sweat a lot though"
Silence.
"My name's Becky by the way"
Silence. Followed by the pity smile.
"Yeah, sorry I'm so awkward."
WHO at the age of 26...can't figure out how to introduce themselves to someone. No I was not homeschooled, no I'm not some anti-social nerdy girl. SERIOUSLY

Part 2. Since I apparently write once a year, we all know embarrassing things happen more than once a year.

Ok, so I had a date. Yes...its true, I did.
Its always way more amazing when you both have issues with awkwardness. But it also makes me feel way better about myself that I am not the only one creating the pain in the room. Sometimes I wish Abby was there to help coach us out of the awkwardness. But since Dylan is obviously more important than my social life...I continue to be at a loss. So we walk to dinner. I warn him several times that I have balance issues, feet picking up issues, ice/snow issues, pretty much issues with everything. I gave fair warning. Things went fine for the most part during dinner.... errr...:) yeah.
Well we walk home, I carried my left overs because something in my mind told me that carrying an overly full go carton of red curry was a super good idea...in the snow and ice and slush puddles. But I made it. I made it all the way back home. I ran into him a couple times walking but I never dropped the carton, never fell...never even skidded, avoided all puddles that would consume my tiny little slip on (because I grew up in MT and STILL forget snow boots when I go into the mountains fully aware that it is and has been snowing FEET of fresh pow.)
I made it, I was so proud, yes there was awkward conversation....jokes that fell flat, stories that didn't go anywhere, sentences that flew past each other, sometimes we weren't on the same page...or even in the same book for that matter. But I didn't embarrass myself. Chalk one up for the solo team Becky! I made it. Smmmmooth.
Or not, we walk into his house, and a friend had stopped over to visit. I round the corner to introduce myself like the cool chick that I am...and he starts laughing hysterically. I, of course, am instantly confused....then he points at my pants, and I look down. My curry...that I kept in the cup...was ALL DOWN MY LEG, ALL OVER BOTH SHOES...ALL OVER. AHHHHHHHH. The boy...yeah, he starts laughing too....like, falling over laughing. I just stood there in utter amazement of myself. SUPER BEC...Stellar first impression. So I spent the rest of the night smelling like sweaty curry.

Ice is not my friend

And neither is snow. Casey doesn't even laugh anymore when I fall down (actually, I don't know if he ever has). He just stares at me like, "pa--leese...try and control you body extremities!" But thankfully dear Casey is such a good friend that he just continues to put up with me despite how awkward, clumsy and embarrassing I am. So we go skiing. We are on a cat track (that's one of those flat groomed runs that kinda leads to downhill runs that are further across the mountain....let's be real...there is only a slight slope on these things, like if you didn't have speed before you started, getting across them pretty much ruins your day (or your mom's coat with the stench of sweat you produce trying to nortek track your way across a mountain)). So we are on a cat track, Case is behind me (slow as usual) and so I stop to turn and see if he is coming. And he's flying! So I quickly turn around to start back up, I didn't even lift a ski or a pole. I WASN'T EVEN MOVING. I just tipped over, off the cat track and into the trees. Sweet. I LOVE digging myself out of powder while I"m upside down with 5 foot posts pulling in the opposite direction. Casey, as usual, doesn't offer to help he just stands there staring at me like it is impossible that this is happening.
Later, we stop at the grocery store to buy some stuff for dinner. I'm in clogs, Casey is in ski boots. Ski boots are hard to walk in, not clogs. There is snow in the parking lot, but not on the side walks. They are clean and dry. Clean and dry all except for a small circle about the size of the saucer you use with a coffee cup...and I stepped on it. And Down she goes! Awesome, that's what Casey said....but not like AWESOME! It was dripping in sarcasm. The kid just walked across the parking lot in ski boots, he also walked all over a tiled grocery store sans problems....yeah...winter.

2 toe nails down...

That's right, they are gone, frightfully so....
2 weekends ago I went backpacking 28 miles with my brand new hiking boots. They are beautiful and wonderful, but had never been worn. I've been wearing flipyfloppies all summer long. My feet haven't been enclosed in a shoe in...months. Anyway, the first 12 miles went fine...it was the second set, the next ten, that killed me. I got huge blisters on both my heels (we are talking huge, like bigger than a 50 cent piece), one on each big toe and then one on each of the two toes after that. Oh, and one on the outside of my foot. So by day three, walking wasn't really working out well for me. I pretty much stumbled along for 6 miles and then fell over at the car. Anyway, I popped the blisters on each of the second toe only to realize they both went under my toe nail, lifting it up...and then last week, pulling them off. I realize that this is very disgusting...but your still reading right?! Ok, all that to say, I now only have 8 toe nails and I am afraid the other 2 won't grow back, or they won't grow back the same. :( Laurey tried to comfort me and tell me I could just paint the skin and no one would know. We will see.





This is the beginning

Having a good time

boots of death

wanting to die

Goob

Goob didn't learn to share cookies from Mom apparently :) I can't even stand how freaking cute this boy is!!!

Will My Ankles Ever Be The Same Again? ... Probably Not :(

um, oops I did it again...fall that is. I know I'm not a graceful runner, but there are so many other things that would have been so much better than what happened on Monday night. 3 Words, Slow Pitch Softball. No I did not strike out, I made it on base (serveral times actually but only because they had a girl at first that couldn't catch the ball to save her own life.) So when the dude behind me hit the ball to left field, I dedcided second base was not good enough....Noooooo....I'm going for 3rd. (The ball's in left, I'm not wearing cleats, I'm out of shape, the ball's in LEFT, we are playing with boys, THE BALL'S IN LEFT) I run, full speed...which really isn't much faster than the average Joe's mild jog. I'm thinking that by wedging my foot into third base I'll just slow myself to a stop. Funny how when you are zooming SLAMMING your foot into a bag doesn't stop you. Of course I twist my sweet little ankle and go flying past the third base coach, practically into the other teams dug out.. and PAIN!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh my gosh, I had to crawl as fast as my little hands and knees could carry me back to the bag. EVERYONE in sight is laughing hysterically. Which is fine b/c I am too ( I can only imagine what that must have looked like) but now I can't stand up. I just sit on the base staring up at my darling friend Casey (the 3rd base coach), wanting to scream my eyes out, and repeating...I can't get up Case, can't do it. But, like usual everyone thinks I'm being dramatic...so I try and pull myself together. I stand, my sister is up to bat...all I can think is, "either strike out and get us out of this inning or you better frickin hit that ball over the fence so I can walk/hobble to home...cause I'm not running." YEah, now my ankle is the size of the softball and my toes are black and blue again. 2 time in 6 months (which, btw, my ankle never returned down to normal size from that experience), so i'm due for another one about.....Oct or Nov. if anyone's interested in the show.... I'll keep you posted.
Sincerely,

cankles.

Don't Worry, I Have WAY More Problems.

Um...in my normal awkward manner...I have once again embarrassed myself (like, open mouth, insert foot). Surprising, not really. A couple nights ago I was 'studying' at the coffee shop. My neighbor and I were sitting at a table together, and one of his friends,Grant, was standing at the end talking. There were no other open tables (popular joint), so i envited him to sit down, and he did. So this boy and my neighbor are mercilessly making fun of me and I reference something I had talked about before...to which their faces held the response of 'what the heck are you talking about, you are CRAZY'. They just shake their heads. So I yell, 'Look, just because you can't hear....' I couldn't even finish my sentence because I forgot Grant WEARS HEARING AIDS! My neighbor's mouth just drops wide open. I sit there staring at Grant and I can feel my face burning. (Grant's a pretty funny, easy going guy, for as long as I've known him (since Jr high), he has worn hearing aids and he's not super sensitive about it..but still...really Becky?! really?!). "Why don't you just keep making fun of my disability, Becky, go ahead." I just stared...I apologized by saying, "Grant, the words just started coming out and I couldn't stop them before I realized what I was saying" (nice apology?!). So we laugh it off and keep talking. But as the converstation goes on, I further embarrass myself in an attempt to make up for what happened before. We are talking about school work, and I was trying to tell him that I'm pretty much ADD and dyslexic. But I prefice it by saying, 'don't worry Grant, I have way more problems than you'. And then I realized that was not the right choice of words. Jokingly Grant says, 'so you are insinuating that my hearing aids are a "problem"?' .....keeping digging Becky, keep digging. Its a little thing we like to call tact, and yeah, I don't have it.
No worries, unlike me, Grant can sail through awkwardness with flying colors...and just make fun of me in the process.
I need a FILTER!