This forgetful, frazzled and sometimes downright freaky girl is always screwing up. I asked to help someone out but by the time I'm calling the first recruit I had already forgotten what I was recruiting them for. Thankfully the recruit that wasn't graciously suggested I call her back when I knew what I wanted. I agreed. In a self-confident "yeah, that's what I meant!" sort of way. Hanging up the phone I took a deep breath and decided to email the person I was helping out that I had not been successful.
Normally. I don't just give up after one try. Normally. I chalked that one up to: well, I don't really do that. You know. Talk to people in real life. It's much easier to just blog. In the safety of my home, or even the public transportation vehicle I sometimes take to work, where I can create a whole safe world from words. I'm like word girl. And she rocks.
Then I had the stupid idea of going to one of my favorite blogs, Bad Mommy Moments, where she wrote about this very thing and split me wide open. Instantly I tried to defend myself. But I took that acting class (and quit) and just last night I actually went out to talk to the neighbors with my husband (and mostly just stood there and let him talk) and... and...
So I figure start small. One of my favorite radio stations was doing this little blurb about bffs and I dearly love mine even though she abandoned me to godforsaken California. After hearing a few people talk about their secret language with their friends I think about how when she and I get excited our voices get higher and squeakier than the Chipmunks in a trequeal and it hurts our husbands' ears. Deciding to step outside of my norm, which would have been to send her a private little email or maybe just blog about how wonderful she is I call in to the radio show.
Me. Calling in where someone might be recording my scratchy, wavy voice to gush about a dear friend to a whole city. The friendly radio girl greeted me and I stammered out that I didn't know what I was doing and became the deer trapped in a kitchen for a moment but then I pushed through and asked if they were still talking about best friends. She politely explained that no, the radio hosts who were doing that bit were about to leave, but then went on to say that weren't best friends great and all the things we'd been hearing about them all day long had been fun? I agreed. I was awash in relief. Not that I didn't want to pay small tribute to my friend, I dearly did, but in a way it was like thinking I was about to launch into the first day of school but instead it was just the "Kindergarden Roundup" and only an hour or so of introduction. Thank the Good Lord. Introduction is what I needed.
Maybe someday I'll be able to stand up in front of a crowd and talk without breaking into a cold sweat and feeling like I'm going to puke. Maybe.