Avoidance 101

Hi.

I love avoiding people. You might assume that this fact is because I am a snob or a huge bitch when in fact it is really just because I am HORRIBLY AWKWARD. I run into people I know and I immediately have nothing to say. I resort to laughing awkwardly or making fun of them [maybe I am a huge bitch?] and I’m pretty sure they are silently regretting talking to me and making a mental note to never run into me ever again. When this awkwardness happened, I am not quite sure. I used to be very social and extremely fun to be around [probably not], and then suddenly I am like a hermit crab with diarrhea of the mouth. Gross.

Let me break it down for you.

Here are actual quotes from awful interactions:

“So. What’s up? Besides growing a beard.”

“I’m glad your new girlfriend is nice, the last one was awful. And Asian?”

“Living at home? You mean living the dream?”

“Oh what’s up with me? Oh nothing, I just hang out with my cat.”

And now for a pictorial montage of my avoidance.

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1. The Cover-My-Face tactic. I do this often, and as you can see it is only semi-effective. If I don’t want to be having a conversation or I feel awkward, I just cover my face. The male pictured caressed my face the first time I met him. In this photo I was just protecting my poor face from a repeat offense.

2. The I-Whip-My-Hair-Back-And-Forth. This trick, similar to sunglasses, allows the user to hide behind a wall. My long very dark hair provides a shield, a veil if you will, between myself and whoever might be lurking on the other side.

3. The disguise. This genius avoidance tactic is flawless. If you are wearing a costume, no one will know who you are. BAM.

4. The Hide-In-A-Model-Train-Mountain. In this photo I am hiding in a model train mountain.

Yes. I am crazy.

So as I have mentioned maybe a thousand times, I still live in my hometown. I am in love with my hometown, but I kinda feel like maybe I need some new people in it. Like all new people.

I see people I went to high school every where [similar to poor Haley Joel Osment and his dead people]. I most often see them at the gym, just to add insult to injury. I hate going to the gym as is, and I am always instantly drenched in sweat as soon as I walk through the Judgement Free doors. My sweaty self does not want to see any semblance of an acquaintance while it is so shiny, so I had to come up with some new techniques.

1.Technology

Bring as many devices into the gym as possible to act as distractions during machine to machine transitions.

2. Watch Something Intense

If you are watching a basketball game or the news, people will assume you are invested. Skip the Hills reruns.

3. Forget to Wear a Watch

If you are caught noticing someone, squint past them into the distance, there will for sure be a clock on the wall somewhere.

4. Never Ever Take Out Your Earbuds

Self explanatory.

And there you have it.

I swear I’m not crazy. I’m not avoiding people, I am just avoiding unloading a whole truck of awkward sauce onto innocent bystanders.

-A

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Haterade Parade

I make my mom gchat me at work. It’s not weird. She lives an entire 7 miles away.

But the point of this post:

I cannot stand 80% of guys our age. (Yes, I am assuming that the 4 people who read this blog are 21-23 years old.) I believe it has become an epidemic that has even evolved into categories of douchebaggery. In this in depth (not) analysis I will attempt to shed light on the disease that has taken over the majority of our male population.

Here are some recent interactions I have experienced:

“Do you smuggle bodies back there?” referring to a truck bed. YES. You caught me, oh-so-bright one; I am smuggling dead bodies in my car.

“I think I know you. Newbury Comics?” Yes. I frequent Newbury Comics with all my other angsty adolescent friends, hoping to catch a glimpse of your winner face.

“Do I go to AA with you?” Courtesy of Liz. This one is priceless because 1) AA is in fact ANONYMOUS and 2) is that supposed to be a selling point? Alcoholism?

A less than complete categorical list of guys I can’t stand

The Gym guy:

I am pretty sure this doesn’t even need an explanation, but I shall indulge you. The Gym guy is that  guy obsessed with the Gym. His facebook status is about the gym, he reads books ABOUT working out AT the gym, and he spends the majority of his time at the gym walking around while trying to secretly [or not so secretly] check himself out in the mirror.

Yup. Shocking, you live in Miami?

The Cornell guy:

I have met quite a few of these recently, and they are HILARIOUS. Most of them are unemployed and spend their time improving their golf game, I wish I was kidding. They thought clubbing seals was a funny joke, and they never wear socks with their shoes (which are always loafers). They have no sense of humor (ie, they don’t think I am funny) and they drink vagina drinks.

The “Boston” guy:

This is the guy that thinks he is from Boston, but then it comes out that in fact he is from Concord, and his family is solely responsible for the oil spill in the gulf. He wears Boston gear, but he sits in daddy’s box at Celtics games while making racist jokes. They try to pull of a Boston accent, but the Brooks Brothers socks give them away.

The Cargo Shorts guy:

This doesn’t need an explanation. Just don’t wear cargo shorts.

The Confidence in Numbers Guy:

This is the guy that sits in the back of class not talking, or even learning. He won’t make eye contact with you as you both squeeze through the door, he won’t take you up on your offer to study together and he mumbles all of his responses. You later see him out at the bar (on a Tuesday, because your life is sad) and he comes sauntering up with his “crew” of cargo shorts-wearing friends. He talks loudly to you, so all of his friends can admire his new friendship with a member of the opposite sex, beaming all the while at his faux confidence.

Oh boys.

Until next time,

-A