Butterflies of the Stomach Variety

“If I could change one thing about myself, I would change…”

What respectable online social networking survey doesn’t list that among its questions? Right next to: “If I could have unlimited buying power at one store, that store would be…” (The answer will always be Anthropologie), “If you spent the night at my house, you’d realize I…” (Stay up really late and do crazy things with art supplies, usually to the tune of Nelly Furtado’s “Whoa, Nelly!” Note: Not the album. Me singing it.)  and “If I could be a character from Friends, who would I be?” (50% Rachel, 25% Phoebe, 15% Monica and 10% Ross)

Given the chance, I’d answer this question with any of the following:

  • my need to check my texts at stoplights
  • the fact that I bite my nails and I’m incapable of stopping
  • the psycho that turns on when I’m losing at a board game
  • the psycho that turns on when karaoke is involved and someone sings my song right as I’m about to go up… three times in a row
  • my apparent affinity for badmouthing people when I’m really tired
  • the sarcastic responses I reply with when given a compliment
  • my unrestraint at consuming Sakana’s habanero sauce with sushi; it’s clear I don’t like the inside of my mouth, tongue or lips.

What I should really answer is this… If I could change anything about myself, I’d change my debilitating shyness around people I find inspiring in some way.

Sounds mild and kind of humdrum. And stupid. Because it is.

Let’s back up, though. Hello. My name is Kristl. I meet celebrities. I run into them. At normal places. I don’t do autographs, but I do make them take pictures. I once forced Kareem Abdul-Jabbar to put down a teriyaki shish kebab to pose with me. I’ve been in Dr. Dre’s car. You think I’m kidding, but, alas, I’m ruthless when it comes to these poor folks who are just trying to live their lives. I have a life to live, too, people, and you just made it more interesting. Don’t take this away from me.

What I’m talking about is not celebrity. Celebrity I can deal with. What I’m talking about is… intimidation caused by genius. Usually artistic genius defined by me. I’m not interested in what the greater world thinks about these people. They could be a stranger, an acquaintance, a good, good (good!) friend. All in all, I can count them on one hand. If they struck a chord with me, I’m mush. Mush mush mush.

Mush.

I hate that this happens. It is the definition of stupid. If I could make a belated New Year’s Resolution, it would be to get over myself and interact with these peeps before I become that girl.

I was blessed with a sign from the “Are you serious?! Don’t be dumb” gods today and I’m running with it. Cross your fingers for me. Unless you’re one of those people I get tongue-tied around, in which case don’t ever bring this up or I’ll be in danger of relapsing.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Butterflies of the Stomach Variety

  1. Yay! I’m so glad you got a blog. Thanks for the link-love! 🙂

    I tend to do the sarcastic remark to compliments too. I read something several years ago (can’t remember what exactly now) but it really made me think about that. Now I work hard to just say “Thank You” and keep my trap shut beyond that.

    Except if someone tells me I smell good. The standard response to that is usually “Thanks! I used soap when I showered this time.” or something along those lines. Terrible.

  2. 1) i LOVE tired smack talking K. because you don’t even really smack talk, you just get un-in-polited enough to like, take it there.

    2) i took that picture! from really far away. like , really far.

    p.s. y’all, seeing a pic of KAJ on a horse is sURREal.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s