I'll never be a good little Socialist.......or witty conversationalist......or silver-tongued small-talker oozing forth a sanguine affability.
Cheeze-its, after the awkward banter I've stumbled through this past week I'd be seated square in the middle of the slow table inside the Socialism Special Ed. class.
Yeah, I know what the true definition of Socialism, but I always thought it would be more aptly applied to those whose oratory skills have made them the Master Of Mingle at parties and social events.
So, I dropped off my 7-year old son at a birthday party for one of his classmates on Saturday. The birthday girl is half-Chinese and elected to go with a Snake Party theme since that's her Zodiac sign.
Fine. In the meantime I took the rest of the mini-Infidels to the corner Church where they featured a live Jerusalem-styled marketplace, camel/donkey rides, and snow pumped in for the kids to play in.
While there, I stepped in camel crap and then followed up the olfactory horrors by sampling some very stinky cheese at Kroger's.
I'm grateful for the poop protection that my closed-toe shoes and jeans had to offer. Can you imagine waltzing through a field of feces wearing your toe sandals and ground-dragging robes like in the times of Jesus?
Clumps of Camel Crap: You're soaking in it!
When we went to pick up my son I was wholly unprepared for the gregarious father who greeted me at the door and insisted on getting into my personal space to show me some party pictures he snapped on his Blackberry.
See, I have to psyche myself up for these kind of encounters. It can't just happen without me mentally preparing and rehearsing otherwise I just ramble on nervously about weird topics.
I can sympathize with the Allman Brothers for I too was born a Ramblin' (Wo)Man.
Not only did I stink at trying to attempt a normal conversation with this outgoing dad, I also just plain stunk.
I silently hoped that maybe he'd been involved in an unfortunate skunk wrangling accident in his youth and had to have his sense of smell permanently removed.
Without meaning to, I used my stinky cheese mouth to discuss the party happenings.....and was horrified at the snakey sexual euphemisms that inadvertently slipped out.
The more I tried to regain my composure and steer the discussion away from snakes, the more I failed and blushed redder and redder.
I finished up my Tour de Nerd speech by discussing racism in the classroom.
I don't even know where that came from but at least it wasn't about snakes.......or anything sexual.
I could tell that this dad was real impressed with me as he stealthily made his escape and practically ran to the kitchen.
I'll never be able to ascertain if it was my physical stink that drove him off or my mental stink.
I'm suddenly dreading the Classroom Christmas Party in 2 weeks.
I need a stunt double to handle the perilous nature of socializing for me.
25 comments:
I actually cried when boy #4 got invited to a play date.
You let your kids go to birthday parties? You ARE brave! I barely handle the social hellos to other parents when I pick the boys up from school.
"I stepped in camel crap" pretty much sums up this post.
oh elastic, i love you. i, like millie, just couldn't get over how you stepped in camel crap. no matter what else happened in your story, i just kept thinking about the crap under your shoe. and maybe you need to skip the stunt double and practice the socializing..practice makes perfect. personally, i don't see why you should be worried, you're brilliant and well spoken and downright hilarious. and i know it from personal experience.
This is hilarious. I'm still trying to get my head around a snake-themed party. I don't care WHAT your zodiac or whatever is.
Should it be socializingism? Because you stink at the other kind of socialism too. Or you just think it is stinky. . . .
Now I wanna hear the snake euphemisms.
Camel crap..that's one I haven't stepped in.
I'm not very good at socializing either.
I wish I could have been there to laugh at you.
"socializingism" to closely resembles a word that ends in gasm for it to work to my liking.
You had me at "I'll never be a good little Socialist." I was trying to picture how that could be bad.
I want to hear the snaky euphemisms, too.
I'm pretty good at socializing with kids and teenagers. Anybody older than that...not so good.
I'd love to have a face-to-face conversation with you. We could discuss stuff we have in common, such as flatulence, super deals at Kroger, adoration for food, and poop. For instance, I'd really like to know what camel poop looks like...and how it feels to step in it.
I feel kind of bad for laughing so hard at your description of your situation. As well as you use words to explain your situations, and make me laugh---I can't imagine it being awkward in person, but I can't really smell the camel poop from here and I'm still laughing.
Am I bad to laugh at your socialist experience? I would have loved to have been there. Why do people insist on getting close to you when you've eaten something stinky?
Great. That sounds like a something a dog would do. But really, I hate trying to talk out of the corner of my mouth in order not to breathe on them.
Wish the guy back in the day at singles dances would have kept quiet. He always ate bratwurst or some such stuff before coming to the dances.
In regards to a comment you left me, I would have had ALL my children at home if I didn't take myself out of eligibility with my darn high-risk pregnancies. My second one was born at home because I was too scared to go back to the torture chamber (hospital) until it was too late.
That was my favorite birth.
And, did I miss something? Are you homeschooling again? The last I saw was that your ninjas had to go fight the public school system for a while...
STM: Punny!
Nancy: Camels may be kind of an exotic anial around here but their poop certainly isn't. It's exactly like horse dung. Clumpy, stinky piles of horse dung. The camels left the parking lot and sidewalks looking like a manure mine field.
Rebecca: Half homeschool. Half public school. All worry me about their academics to some extent.
Homebirthing isn't for everyone and not all midwives are the same. However, I'm a big advocate for it whenever possible because things went so much smoother than my hospital births.
A few of the snakey euphemisms that I blurted out (I can't remember all of them because I was so mortified that my brain must have blocked the rest for my own protection):
When seeing a picture of one of the snakes climbing inside a shirt I tried to be funny but it came out wrong when I said "Oh well, you know the saying. One snake in the shirt is worth TWO snakes in the bush." I tried to make that dorky sentence sound better by following it with a "At least the snake didn't go into his pants."
sigh
Musing about my own zodiac sign:
"I'm a tiger but I don't think I'll be having a tiger party anytime soon. Besides snakes are so much more doable."
Yes. I said that snakes are DO-ABLE!
Add that to exclamations of "Wow, look at how big that snake is!" and you can see why I was embarrassed.
I'm just taking a breather from working.
I'll see you guys on the other side of Thursday.......if I survive that long.
And a special curse goes out to MILLIE who sang Maria Muldaur's catchy song Midnight At The Oasis on the phone to me today and now I can't stop singing it in my head.
Midnight at the oasis......sing your camels to sleep.....I know your daddy's a sultan....
I used to feel awfully tongue-tied in social situations. I was always the wallflower. I think I'm growing out of it or I'm just getting bolder in my old age. LOL.
I think you are awfully witty and creative, for what it's worth. ;o)
Thanks for sharing more. I love to come here and laugh!
glad that camel didn't spit at you. how big and of what consistency was the camel crap? I really want to know, this isn't a loosely tossed about question. I must know.
just letting you know that i will likely be stealing many songs off your playlist for my own, and you'll be getting mad props. so both of my readers will know how rad you are.
I think you are so great--I don't see any social problem AT ALL.
You are so funny--I love it. How do you do it?
I bet someone back in the time of Jesus got fed up with stepping in Camel crap and invented closed- toe shoes.
I feel your pain truly I do. Now I understand all your comments from the other day. You could always do what I do and say as little as possible...although most people would misconstrue this as you being either stuck up, a wench, or some kind of combination of the two...of course you could always claim mafia roots...jk
Although I'd almost choose the mafia over socialism...;D
Or we could always go the Ferris Bueller route..."It's not that I condone fascism(sp?) or any ism for that matter. Isms in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in an ism he should believe in himself. I quote John Lennon. 'I don't believe in Beatles I just believe in me.' Good point there. After all he was the Walrus. I could be the Walrus. I'd still have to bum rides off people."
I hate to be all look at me, but look at me ;)
You sure make up for your social shyness in your written words. You are brilliantly funny - I hope you realize that. :)
And so you stepped in camel crap.. one hump or two?
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