Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Yes, ok. I shot the sheriff. But I did NOT shoot the deputy.

So, my blog used to be funny sometimes, way back when I first started it. Now I'm usually too tired to do anything but post random stuff that is funny to me and RR but not to pretty much anyone else on the planet. That's ok, though, because she's basically the only person that reads it. So I mostly write stuff for her amusement.

This really, really does not make my blog funny. RR and I have a long list of things that we find really hilarious that even we recognize is, objectively speaking, not even remotely amusing. I don't know if it's because we're sisters or because we've spent too much time together. I’m confident that none of the stuff on that list would make it into a successful comedy routine. This list includes things like accidentally saying words that don’t exist (like the time one of us tried to say "exactly" but we said "presaply" instead*); waving at trees as we drive past them, saying “hi, guys!”; and intentionally using a strong Texas accent when speaking french.

Another item on that list is reciting song lyrics as part of a conversation. I don’t mean quoting them as in “yeah, man, it’s like the song says . . . .” I mean acting like we are not quoting anything, just talking. We still crack up at remembering the time in high school that our friend came into the social studies office and declared with a straight face that life was a highway, and she wanted to drive it. All night long. Why this is so funny to us, I do not know.

The key component to making this funny (to us) is to make sure that you do not use the emphasis and cadence of the song as it is sung. You also have to put on a serious, “here’s a deep thought for you” face. Also, it’s really only funny if the person to whom you are speaking knows what you are doing and plays along.

Of course, we also think it’s funny to repeat back what the other person just said as though we had just thought of it. “I think we should put the pie crust in for 10 minutes instead of 12.” “Actually, you know what? I think we should just put it in for 10 minutes.” “That’s a really good idea, but I think 10 minutes would be better.” “Yeah, I see what you mean, but my suggestion would be to go with 10 minutes.” “Huh. I had not thought about that. Well, I have an idea, how about 10 minutes instead?”

We recognize that those conversations go on way longer than they should.

We also like to do the suspicious eyebrow raise back and forth at each other. But last night for some reason when I was doing this, I got a foot cramp, so just in case those two things are related, I might not be doing that anymore.

Also funny to me: when I try to go to the I'm Not Benny blog, about 90% of the time, I accidentally type "im not beeny." I like his blog because once he mentioned that he has large eyeballs, and though he may have been(y) joking, I could totally identify, as I wear the contact lens equivalent of granny panties.

Beeny. Cracks me up.

Sad, huh?

Not funny to me: carrying the conversation at the weekly work lunch that our work group takes.

I really thought I'd blogged about this before, but I can't find it. Anyway. So. Work lunch.

There are four of us in our work group: our boss and then three of us that report to her. We go to lunch together almost every week. The lunch is almost always at least--at least--two hours. There is no good reason for it to take that long, it just does.

These lunches are exhausting for me because I am an introvert, and I usually use my lunch break to get away from people so that I can make it through the afternoon. At some of my former jobs, I'd sometimes eat lunch in my car just to get a break. But on work group lunch days, not only do I not get a break, but I have to actively participate in the conversation. My two coworkers who are not my boss have told me, repeatedly, that when I'm not there, there isn't much talking. I was very surprised by this, but it did explain why when I can't make the lunch one day, they will almost always reschedule it for a day when I can be there.

We only spend a little bit of time talking about sustantive work stuff. Other than three recurring topics, I don't like to gossip about my coworkers (those topics are: "Further Proof That Coworker A Has Gone 'Round the Bend"; "Further Proof That Coworker B Is Sexist And Also Very Patronizing For Someone With Such A Tenuous Grasp Of The Law"; and "Coworker C: Why So Angry?"). And I don't want to talk about my private life, or anything about pop culture that might give insight into my likes or dislikes or what I do in my spare time (a/k/a private life) because I am a little bit protective of said private life. Perhaps irrationally so.

I've always been this way. Even back in the sixth grade, when I would get a letter from my pen pal, and my mom would ask me who I got a letter from, I was always so offended that she would intrude into something that didn't concern her. Because obviously the mother of a preteen doesn't need to know who her daughter is getting mail from.

It's not much different now. Ask me what I'm watching on t.v. right now. Answer: if it were any of your business, I would have already told you.

I recognize that I'm a little crazy about it. But it works the other way, too. I totally respect other people's privacy. When my boss said she'd be out of the office for a few days because she was having surgery, I did not ask what kind or if it was serious. She might have thought it was disinterest, but it was just me respecting her privacy---if she'd wanted me to know, she'd have told me. It was also a little bit disinterest. I'm kind of a cold person sometimes. But even if this had been my best friend telling me this, I would have just hoped that she'd tell me what kind of surgery. I wouldn't ask because that's information you give out to the people you want to have it.

But the upside of my privacy weirdness, if you have incriminating stuff that you don't want people to know about, when I come over, you can just leave it lying around. In fact, if I had to get something from your desk, and I saw that there was a document on your desk with the heading "Confession" and the subheading "To Be Sent To The Police After My Death," I wouldn't read it. Because I respect your privacy.

Also, I would probably realize that if I read it, I might have to take some sort of action, and in addition to being cold, I am lazy. But mostly, I would recognize that it's just none of my business.

So, anyway, I don't want to talk about my private life with my boss, who is a caring person that I'm quite fond of but who absolutely refuses to recognize boundaries, even when they are pointed out to her. Even when she hits them with her car, puts the car in reverse, and then backs over them. Thus, she is on a need-to-know basis with respect to my personal life.

To make a long story short (too late), due to a lack of safe conversation topics, I am aware that I neither start the conversation at lunch nor provide much material to keep it going. This left me baffled as to why they supposedly all sit there in silence when I'm not there. But when we went out to lunch the next time after they told me that, I realized why. I am the only one that consistently makes eye contact with our boss. I'm the only one that consistently acknowledges that someone is talking, the only one that consistently responds with appropriate facial expressions and vague comments. One of my other coworkers participates some, but only intermittently. I think she keeps her eye on me to figure out when I'm about to snap, and then she jumps in just long enough to give me a breather.

What the hell, y'all? Why am I the one that has to take the bullet? I guarantee you, I am NOT the person there that's the most interested in what is being talked about. Because we are usually talking about coworkers, my coworker's personal lives, or my boss's personal life, none of which I care about (see: cold, above). The other people in my group care, but I do not. And you know what else I recently realized? They always strategically sit so that I have to face her at lunch. They totally throw me under the bus on that. And they make me sit behind her in the car where, I kid you not, she spends more time looking at me than she does at the road. You know, to see if I'm paying attention to the conversation. I have taken to texting either RR or the coworker sitting next to me, just so that I can avoid eye contact on the drive. My boss is nice, really and truly, but I am an introvert, and I get tired from all the people interaction.

So anyway, weekly lunch day: NOT funny.

Also, work-related: a new low on the laziness. I actually avoided working on something the other day because it would have required me to roll my chair about half a foot and pick up a folder, and that seemed like too much effort. No problems with walking to the break room to get more coffee, though.

Ok, bedtime now.

*I SWEAR I have blogged about this incident, but I can't find it.

1 comment:

JLR said...

I am too lazy to correct this post, but it should say "substantive," not "sustantive."