Tag Archive | social awkwardness

My life would make a sh*tty movie



I’m standing in the subway, going over the Seine River, staring at a sparkling Eiffel Tower, my nose pressed against the door. It’s most unhygienic and people are looking at me weirdly. In my own fantasy world I’m riding towards a sparkly future, complete with unicorns and giant cookies. The train pitches forward and I collapse onto an elderly gentleman who looks at me as if to say “youth these days…” Back to the present. Ow, my ankle hurts.

See, this is what I do: I imagine that my life is a movie and that everything is going to turn out for the best. Of course this is a big problem because I very much doubt that Ryan Gosling or Ryan Reynolds ( why are they all called Ryan?) is going to show up at my door under the pouring rain, profess his undying love for me and present me with a giant bouquet of roses. Yes, I’m old fashioned, deal with it. Sure, there may be bumps in the road, sort of like in the Empire Strikes Back (anyone who doesn’t instantly know what I’m talking about should be… um… forced to go a week without eating a cookie (I’m being nice 😉 )): sure, the Empire owns the Rebel Alliance just like the Jets owned the Falcons last week and like any and every team who’s played the Giants, but in the end everything ends happily. Well, not happily exactly, I mean Darth Vader could have survived and spent another couple years teaching Luke how to turn on his friends and family, but I suppose it finished the best way that it could. Meanwhile, I’ve gotten off topic. Again. *sigh*

I’m afraid that my life would be rather more like Titanic though. Picture this: CT is, as always late. She runs down the hill to the metro station, hair unbrushed, makeup already smudged. She can hear the train approaching and she knows that there’s a very good chance that she won’t make it (knowing that she’ll be late for school if she takes the later one) so she puts on a final burst of speed and tears through the constraining ticket machines. The beeper on the doors sounds, letting her know that the train is about to leave. She won’t get there on time. BUT WAIT! There’s a hot dude holding the door for her! All is saved! She enters the train just as the doors shut, crashing straight into her [really hot] saviour. Oh oh, the boy has abs. Must. Not. Swoon. After pushing her off him, hot dude goes to sit down, but he keeps glancing at CT with a half curious, half perplexed look on his face. CT is just starting to think that he might ‘like’ her when she catches a glimpse of herself in the window. Yowser. She looks like a past date red pepper (and that is not a comparison that I make lightly believe me): hair sticking up in gravity defying ways, face a vermillion shade of red, weird grin plastered on her face, kind of like the Joker. And then she hears herself. Oopsy daisy, she sounds disturbingly like a parched dog. Well, that explains the staring! End of story.

That’s another thing; I sometimes talk about myself using the 3rd person, as if I were narrating my movie. Normally I don’t think anything of it, but a couple of weeks ago, someone asked me if I was schizophrenic. My answer had to be “nooooo… just crazy”. Quite honestly, if my life were a movie, it would probably be one like Attack of the Killer Tomatoes: under budget, with bad special effects, bad actors and just generally ridiculous. To make it short, my life would make a sh*tty movie.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

What do I do with my body parts?

Now before you go all “ew” and “gross” on me, give me a chance to explain. I went to a concert on Saturday night and realized that while everybody else seemed to have no problem moving groovily (isn’t that a fun word? groooovily. Ahem.) to the beat I looked like a hamster having a heart attack.

If you’re only here to see CT make a fool of herself, please skip to the word COOKIE. Otherwise, please enjoy the foreplay. *clears throat*

See, a friend of mine is in this rock band and they don’t often have gigs so I try to go when they’re playing. What you have to understand is that I am not a person who generally goes out and is social and dances and manages to look hot doing it (gaah, why does everything I say always sound so wrong?) . Anyway, even though the ‘orchestra of my colleagues’ as my friend’s dad called it, was playing on the other side of town, I went out of friendship and because I had nothing else to do. Well actually the other choice was getting drunk in a park while it was raining. Obvious choice no? For me at least.

The 20th arrondissement of Paris is not a great neighborhood, or at least the part that I was in wasn’t. My friend and I went together, which I’m grateful for because I never would have gone on my own. The club that Black Crown Falling was playing in (check them out on YouTube, they’re awesome!) was more a bar with an improvised stage than anything else. To tell you the truth, it was scary place. It smelled of alcohol and smoke and it was a dark and stormy night. Washington (my friend) and I stood outside in the pouring rain for an hour, too nervous to go inside because the screams that were emanating from the room made it sound like there were flamingos getting slaughtered (yeah you guessed it, the band before BCF was a heavy metal group).

We finally gathered our courage and went inside when BCF started playing, and I’ve gotta say that I was honestly really enjoying myself until I noticed that other people were nodding their heads and tapping their feet while I was standing there, stone still, looking like an awkward giraffe. I got worried that it might look as if I didn’t like the music so I started stomping my foot in rhythm. Bad idea; it just looked as if I needed to pee. Next I started moving my head and ended up portraying a person in epileptic shock.


We were standing in front of the stage and since the band played for 40 minutes I took it as a bad sign that I started getting pins and needles in my legs 5 minutes into the concert. Because of this every so often I would hop up and down a little, switching legs. And where was I supposed to look? Looking straight at the singer made it look like I was strangely fascinated with him (which believe me, I am not). I tried looking at the guitarist’s little brother, who was watching his idol with a proud look on his face, but that made me seem creepy. So I looked at the wall for most of their playing time, trying to seem like I’d mastered the vague mysterious attitude. I didn’t, and that was pretty obvious to EVERYONE.

Finally I didn’t know what do with my arms. I tried crossing them but that was too arrogant and “f*ck you”-like. I put them behind my back but that made it look like I was some stuck up teenager waiting for the torture to end. In the end I just swung them back and forth like a deranged robot, occasionally hitting people accidentally. Yes, that’s the option that I chose. If you had a better solution, I wish you could have been there to tell me.

So I was the awkward teenager, sopping wet, knocking people over with her disproportionately long arms, jumping up and then down again every few minutes, eyes shifting from place to place, head rolling around in perfect disharmony with the music. Luckily for me I realized that Washington was having trouble controlling her limbs as well, which made me feel less alone. But tell me, good people of Apricot Land, what was I supposed to do?

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager

PS: Today I’m apparently fixating on animals. Hum, tomorrow it might be kitchen tools, who knows?

What to do when confronted with an awkward social situation

Dear Readers,

I’m very excited because I now have 7 followers! Please, no comment on how lame that sounds. Thank you so much for reading my blog, it means a lot.

So today I was confronted with an awkward social situation. Oh, if you want to skip all the foreplay to the advice, scroll to the word COOKIE down below 🙂 My family has a country house in Normandy (the French countryside) and it is my paradise — although that will be the subject of another article later. Anyway, not much happens around here, so when the annual hunting festival comes around each year we go happily (don’t ask why, just go with it). However, no one else seems to. Like, ever. Until… this year.

Thinking that we’d practically be the only people there, I didn’t bother changing out of my gardening clothes or slathering makeup all over my face that I’d just have to take off later (did I mention that I’m a naturally lazy person?). Normally we stroll right in, listening to the sounds of the horns singing hunting songs, we say hello to people, and generally relax. Not this year! Boy oh boy not this year… I’ve never seen so many people there (about 70,000). It was astounding. Then I realized something worse than the hordes of strangers invading my lazy countryside: I looked awful. Everyone else was dressed in fancy riding and hunting gear and I was wearing a ratty pair of shorts, no makeup, my hair was tossed up in a messy ponytail and I had on a Curious George t-shirt. Curious George. I mean come on. People started staring at me, and not in a nice way. The fact that I was beet red probably didn’t help.

And then I noticed the dudes. Boys around my age had that rugged, country look to them, and most were shirtless. And all were perfectly tanned and six-packy. It was either fancy dress or no dress. Curious George t-shirts not accepted — yikes.

So here are a few methods I used to make myself more invisible (invisibler? no?)


# 1 : Hide

The best way to be invisible is to not be visible at all. It works every time. Well… I can be more difficult if you’re at a place with someone, but my oblivious parents didn’t realize I was gone for a good 20 minutes. However, if you’re in the middle of a conversation with someone, this is NOT a good technique. Trust me, I’ve tried it before. Don’t try melting into a puddle on the floor either. You’ll just look like an old mop.

# 2 : Smile

If you’ve firmly established that there is no way that you aren’t going to stand out: smile. Smile like you’ve never smiled before. Be cheerful, bright and sunny. Please do be careful not to verge on hysterical though, because that can get very ugly, very fast. If you’re in a conversation, the person who you’re talking to will be pleased that you’re so happy to talk to them. If you’re just walking around, people will think it’s part of your crazy hippy persona. If you’re desperate enough, you won’t care.

# 3 : Be bold

Make your entourage think that this look, this attitude and the ensuing consequences are all a choice of yours, and that you stand by it 100%. Some people might actually be impressed.

# 4 : Distractions

In emergency situations, you can whip out your cell phone and pretend to take a very important call. Don’t brag too much during your fake phone conversation, because once you hang up it might be very hard to explain to the boy/girl standing in front of you how you got selected to go into space on the next Soyouz mission. If you have an embarrassing front, staring at a poster can also be useful, as people can only see you from the rear. Remember not to stare too long at the same one though or the masses might think you’re particularly obsessed with canned worms from wherever.

# 5 : Be yourself

This is the best one. If you’re yourself, you can relax into your persona. If you can do this, you are a god. Seriously, I’ve tried and failed miserably. This is one of those times when you’ll either succeed or tank. But the best outcome is that everyone will accept you for who you are, and you can live life in peace. Relatively.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

PS: those points are not in order, you have to determine the course of things yourself. Good luck!