Thursday, June 2, 2011

I'm like Anne Bancroft... without the pesky sophistication

Anne Bancroft sophistication is what it's all about. Not Mrs. Robinson or Annie Sullivan... a cross between that sex appeal (minus the cougar like desperation) and the strength. You know the image I'm talking about... that woman at the cocktail party who can lean back casually in the lounge chair, one leg draped seductively over the other, smiling easily at every person in the room. She can hold her own in any conversation, gives you the feeling she could tear someone apart in the board room, but is still compassionate. This is the sort of woman that everyone wants to sit next to because she pulls off "glamorous" without even trying. Every man wants to date her. Every woman wants to be her. That's not me.

This is me-

I'm not good at being cool. I can pretend for a couple of hours, but inevitably on lookers realize that I am in fact.... a complete goof ball. I am a lot of different things... but I'm not cool. No, I'm the girl people sit next to because they know I'll whisper something whacked out and mildly inappropriate to the conversation.

Over the weekend I was told that I was fake. It wasn't said with malice but I couldn't help but wonder what part of me was supposed to be the real part? I am serious, silly, introverted, extroverted, romantic, sweet, sassy, raunchy, smart, and stupid. It depends on the mood, the environment, the circumstances. I answer questions differently at different times when I sense a change in nuance. I see shades of grey, and answer with my heart. <Cue Meredith Brooks - Bitch>

Maybe this should be a notice to that special guy out there... If you're looking for the same thing every single day, you've come to the wrong place. If you're looking for June Cleaver just keep walking. I can do the cooking, the loving, and the listening. But I also have to have the laughing, the fired up feeling, the passion, and once in awhile I'm going to be frustrated and I might let a tear or two run down my cheeks.

I don't want to be fixed. When I am down I don't stay there for long. Do not follow me. Don't even think about it. It's not fun and I can't guarantee I could get us both out! You don't have to make me feel better. In a few minutes I will think of something funny, even if it's only funny to me, and I'll be back to good. The truth is that I don't ask for much of anything at all, but I will give my everything to someone who is capable of receiving it.... even if that's not cool.

For the record... I sometimes try to capture a little Anne B. sophistication, but honestly I took this picture for my friend Dee to show her my new dress that I've never worn to a cocktail party. I did however wear it to do the laundry and pack for my weekend get away because that's how I roll. Anne Bancroft in the houseeeeeeee... literally.


Julio said...

Okay, where have YOU been for all of MY life?

Julio said...

hit me up on facebook. No, I'm not "hitting on you." It is just that 99% of my facebook "friends" are shallow, ignorant and boring. You don't seem to be any of these. E-mail me. No, I want you to fax me instead. I haven't once received a fax in my entire life, so it'll make me feel "important."

Angie said...

I joined your nearly defunct Facebook page-o-fun and then followed you on the Twitter. I have completed my stalking for the day. Now... your mission should you choose to accept it is to make the world a slightly less sh*tty place. Good luck.

Julio said...

I know this might sound counter-intuitive, but wouldn't the world be a less shitty place if I took a shit in Rush Limbaugh's mouth?

My Zimbio
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