My Little Pink Notebook

For Christmas, my mother filled my "stocking" with all sorts of goodies.  One of said goodies was a two-pack of those darling little moleskin notebooks in the most lovely shades of pink.  I decided that I would carry one with me at all times.  You know, for when inspiration strikes, whether it be inspiration for a new blog entry or inspiration via a particularly compelling Cabernet.  I need to write things down as I think of them.  I just don't remember things.  (And no, this isn't another one of those "I'm getting old" postings.  I just genuinely cannot remember things if I do not write them down.)

This was one thing I jotted down in my notebook the other day: "Life of the Fabulously Awkward."  Strange?  Well, you'll notice that I changed the name of my blog.  I was inspired.  By my newest friend, a sassy and smart 25-year-old, we'll just call her Ms. Sass.  She makes me laugh on a regular basis.  Our latest source of hysteria, aside from the plethora of crap we recently discovered underneath my computer cart leftover from my office's former inhabitant, is describing awkward encounters.  You see, she finds it more hilarious when I have awkward moments.  She would.  Me?  I prefer hers.  Naturally.

I was describing an incident enfolding in which I had "met" a coworker that I had actually met before.  You see, she was a friend of a friend and we'd met at dinner a few times perhaps two years ago and commiserated about our lives as lawyers and how much we disliked our particular jobs.  We'd exchanged business cards.  Well, when I met this individual at my new job (what are the odds?), it became readily apparent that she did not have any recollection of meeting me.  The horror.  I am just narcissistic enough that this made me feel small for a moment.  Then I remembered that I'm not as important to everyone else as I am in my own mind.  Oh look, I AM a narcissist.  Ha.  But let's proceed onward with this particular awkward tale.  There was not really an appropriate time at that moment for me to say, "We've actually met."  There wasn't much time after that either.  So my decision was to wait awhile, then bring it up, say over drinks or when we'd been working together for awhile.  Turn it into a funny tale, make her laugh, make her feel a bit awkward for not remembering me.  I had a plan.

Unfortunately, like so much of life, my plan did not work out as expected.  She walked into my office the other day and hands me my old business card.  And yep, I felt completely awkward.  My face flushed, betraying my desire to remain cool and collected.  Awkward moments ensued, including me owning up to the prior conversation and my inability to find the right time to bring up the fact that we had, in fact, met before.  After I explained this to Ms. Sass, she was in complete fits of giggles.  She decided that my life was, in fact, more awkward than hers.  She's probably right.

While I will love the birds in all their decorating glory and for their symbolism in how this blog initially began, my blog will now reflect my life, a journey of food, friends and awkward moments, all recorded in my little pink notebook.  But only fabulously awkward moments.  I am a narcissist, after all.