Okay, so a recent informal poll I conducted suggests that if there is something wrong with you, you'd like to know. I don't mean if something is wrong with you- in my opinion specifically. I mean- if you have food in your teeth, waving it's spinachy green fingers at me, you'd like to know. Things that are wrong include but are not limited to: ear, cheek and nose hair, downed flys, boogers, flipped clothing tags and other embarrassing but easily repaired esthetic flaws. So, now that we all agree we'd rather know; why do I still worry how you're gonna take it?
Well Doctor, you see that's because nobody likes to think that they have been walking around like an a*hole with their barn door wide open. I might as well take all the confidence you had at that moment, tie it to the biggest anchor I can find and throw it overboard while shouting: 'That'll teach ya for getting too big for your britches. ' cackling all the way back to shore. Pointing out flaws is a terrible feeling for all involved. The victim's "Oh no, I ate 2 hours ago and I've had a hydroponic sesame garden growing in my mouth since" feeling and the messenger's "I wish I didn't have to do this, they'll wish I'd done it sooner." feeling. It stands to reason, you're better to hear it from me, than to head to the bathroom and spot it yourself half a day later. Though reason is seldom applied to vanity.
The strangest thing about this awkward social situation is even if I am part of a much larger group; the responsibility falls to me. I can be at work as the problematic Bat in the Batcave twists in the wind- while the cave dweller tells an emphatic story- everyone sees it. EVERYONE! But nobody says anything... So I wait until the story ends. Either insert a laugh or sympathetic head shake whichever seems appropriate; because I wasn't listening- I was starring at their nose. At the next private oppurtunity I pull them aside and pretend that I just noticed the offense. "You've got a little" *insert the universal signal for get that thing outta there! Don't kill the messenger is an adage quickly brought to mind. Yesterday I found myself in this type of situation; I made the furrowed brow "what is that?" face at my co-worker, with a pinching gesture at the rogue earhair that's been driving me nuts for 30 days. He didn't get it & all I could think was; how universal is this gesture if he doesn't know it...Then I thought maybe it was a familial shorthand, an obsession 4 generations in the mating. Needless to say I gave up on that hair, but only after multiple failed attempts. Hubby says if it doesn't bother them it shouldn't bother me. HA!
Alternatively, I want people to tell me when something has gone horribly array. If I were to arrive at my Momma or BFF's with my fly down, burrs stuck to my shirt and in my hair, dark flapping booger hanging from my nose, white bread mush glued between my teeth and giant eye gunk- they would laugh first; ask me how my night was; then get to work at reno-ing this fixer-upper. As for most other people? I am pretty sure they would let you walk around in that state, assuming it was either a purposeful decision to be a disaster or I was too far gone already to be helped by a Kleenex and some floss. Either way I will keep worrying about you and your fixable flaws and worrying about how you're gonna react, so there's that:)
Well Doctor, you see that's because nobody likes to think that they have been walking around like an a*hole with their barn door wide open. I might as well take all the confidence you had at that moment, tie it to the biggest anchor I can find and throw it overboard while shouting: 'That'll teach ya for getting too big for your britches. ' cackling all the way back to shore. Pointing out flaws is a terrible feeling for all involved. The victim's "Oh no, I ate 2 hours ago and I've had a hydroponic sesame garden growing in my mouth since" feeling and the messenger's "I wish I didn't have to do this, they'll wish I'd done it sooner." feeling. It stands to reason, you're better to hear it from me, than to head to the bathroom and spot it yourself half a day later. Though reason is seldom applied to vanity.
The strangest thing about this awkward social situation is even if I am part of a much larger group; the responsibility falls to me. I can be at work as the problematic Bat in the Batcave twists in the wind- while the cave dweller tells an emphatic story- everyone sees it. EVERYONE! But nobody says anything... So I wait until the story ends. Either insert a laugh or sympathetic head shake whichever seems appropriate; because I wasn't listening- I was starring at their nose. At the next private oppurtunity I pull them aside and pretend that I just noticed the offense. "You've got a little" *insert the universal signal for get that thing outta there! Don't kill the messenger is an adage quickly brought to mind. Yesterday I found myself in this type of situation; I made the furrowed brow "what is that?" face at my co-worker, with a pinching gesture at the rogue earhair that's been driving me nuts for 30 days. He didn't get it & all I could think was; how universal is this gesture if he doesn't know it...Then I thought maybe it was a familial shorthand, an obsession 4 generations in the mating. Needless to say I gave up on that hair, but only after multiple failed attempts. Hubby says if it doesn't bother them it shouldn't bother me. HA!
Alternatively, I want people to tell me when something has gone horribly array. If I were to arrive at my Momma or BFF's with my fly down, burrs stuck to my shirt and in my hair, dark flapping booger hanging from my nose, white bread mush glued between my teeth and giant eye gunk- they would laugh first; ask me how my night was; then get to work at reno-ing this fixer-upper. As for most other people? I am pretty sure they would let you walk around in that state, assuming it was either a purposeful decision to be a disaster or I was too far gone already to be helped by a Kleenex and some floss. Either way I will keep worrying about you and your fixable flaws and worrying about how you're gonna react, so there's that:)
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