Not too long ago, the Pioneer Woman had a contest on her blog. As you may, or may not, know, Ree's contests usually require some sort of cleverness in the form of naming a photo or whatnot. Exposing my lack of cleverness to the world is not on my to-do list so I've only entered one of her contests and that was only because a title struck me instantly and it made me giggle even though it had no chance of winning. This, by the way, was breaking one of my basic life rules of never entering contests that I don't think I can win... not that I'm competitive or anything... cause I'm really not. At all. Really.
Anyway, all you had to do to enter this particular contest was to leave a comment sharing an embarrassing moment and the winner would be selected by a random generator. Geesh... what could possibly be easier than that? I mean, I embarass myself pretty much on a daily basis (assuming I leave the house, although sometimes that's not even necessary). The things I've said, the things I've done, the times I've fallen... goodness, I could right a book! A great book. If... If... I could remember a single one of them. I sat there after quickly leaping to her comments section and couldn't think of a single embarassing moment. Still can't. For somebody who could probably have chosen embarassing herself for a profession, what was the deal? What level of professionalism have I reached that I am able to supress painful memories to such depths?
Well, a few days later I had an epiphany. I'm well aware of my fine tuned skills in the art of denial, but I recognized the real life skill that saves me from just giving up and living with my head in the sand while recently watching What About Bob?... again. Now I realize that some of you find Bob terribly annoying... but it has got to be one of my absolute favorite movies. If you haven't seen it (then you should), Bob is an obsessively phobic and neurotic basket case who insists on intruding on his therapist's vacation. (Yes, Julie, he is way, way out of line. I understand. But it's still funny... just try not cringing.)
Bob is terrified of everything from germs to elevators to dying from any number of terminal illnesses. But Bob comforts himself by pretending to have things he doesn't have (like Turettes) because he reasons that if he can pretend to have it, then he doesn't really have it so it's one less thing he needs to worry about. So as I'm watching this, void of the memory of any embarassing moments, I realized that I do the same thing. Only my method involves immediately sharing my agonizingly embarassing moments with at least one other person... because, obviously, if I can talk about it, it must not have been that embarassing. Right? Of course. Like magic, the embarassing moment is properly filed in my (maybe less than perfectly stable) mind. Yes, they do surface every once in a while... usually in the middle of the night so they can keep me awake for a few hours of distress... but eventually I'm able to shove them back into that dark corner of my mind where they can rest peacefully. I know what you're thinking, but hey, don't knock it until you try it. That's what I say.
In other news, a special little box arrived at my house today. Actually 2 boxes... but it's the little one that is going to solve world peace and global warming! Okay, I may be exagerating a bit... but it is going to repair my laptop. Hopefully. And my life will begin to return to normal. No more climbing stairs to download photos... or to get the camera I left there. No more sssllloooooowww, frozen screens. Yay! The larger box is an empty box that I insisted upon for shipping my laptop to them in case their hard drive doesn't work. The tech wanted me to play computer games with him but I insisted that my husband had done all of the diagnostic stuff, read him the list of error codes and informed him that, "No, I can not sit down with the computer right now. Sorry. My husband says I need a box."
If all goes well with the laptop when DH gets home, I should have a much more colorful post tomorrow... because yes, I do still knit. Oh, and fyi, we are now on round 2 of the flu and I am accepting pity.
Oh! I just had an idea. In order to trigger my malfunctioning memory, how about if you leave a comment sharing one of your most embarassing moments here. I'll even offer up some lovely sock yarn as a prize. I'll make it a random drawing because I wouldn't want to have to choose. So don't be shy... think of it as therapy!