After a week's sojourn in Idaho a girl needs her Cafe Rio, so we went yesterday and got cozy in line with two girls from the Bon Losee Hair Academy who took every opportunity to look me up and down. Why do we do that? What does that up-and-down look say, exactly? Chup, who witnessed the optical drama first hand kept coming up with excuses, like for instance, "The one girl is self-conscious about her hard-working denim vest and sees you in your turtleneck and boots and is giving you props (with her eyes) for doing something she can't at the moment."Whatever.
I would like to declare to the world that I am going to really work obliterating sizing-up staring because I think women have a tendency to do it (especially to other women) and I don't understand why. Heaven forbid I should do something I plain don't understand. Behavior must be dissected and analyzed before it can be declared useful. Close the textbooks, Sigmund.
Mid-meal we were visited by some of Chup's movie friends. One in particular, Brandon, I have met on dozens of occasions.
"Hi I am Brandon, I don't think we've met." He offers his hand.
I take it.
"Brandon, I have met you so many times before." I declare.
"Really?"
"It's ok." I sense his embarrassment."I am forgettable. Everyone forgets me. It's weird, but it's my life."
Brandon looks me up-and-down.
What is this? Is there a sign that says PLEASE PERUSE WITH EYES on my body?
"I am sure you are not forgettable . . . not with those . . . boots." Says Brandon and disappears into a sea of CF patrons.
Chup missed the exchange and hurried over to make sure Brandon wasn't perverted in his conversing with me.
"You are red." He observes.
"Your friend likes my boots." I note.
Frankly, I don't know what to do about my forgettableness. It rears its head-o-humility mostly around movie/actor types which I have observed first with the acquaintances of my actor/director/brother Topher and his wife/socialite Lisa. Now it's my own husband's crew. I assure you though, tight shirts are not getting it done. Ideas would be useful.
When we returned home yesterday Chup decided to put up our Christmas lights. We chose color this year and they couldn't be cuter in the night sky.
We drove past ~J's house the other night because last year her neighbors went absolutely nuts with the decoration. Having been an eye witness this year, I am certain that they all met up, tripped on acid, and started to decorate. Things were blinking and moving and projecting and chuckling and generally making me dizzy. What is with the giant Frosty/Santa blow-ups? Mark my word, these blow-ups are going to humanize, (think the Marshmallow Man in Ghostbusters) stomp around in the streets looking for good little children to satisfy the emptiness in their bloated bellies. Haven't you heard the song that goes like this:
When they placed it on his head/
He began to dance around.
Later in the evening I stopped by a neighbor's house to check on her overall well-beingness. Turns out, she was quite ill. I asked her what symptoms were manifested.
"Sore throat, coughing, hard to breath." She rambled.
"Oh. I see. Anything else?" I hoped not.
At this point, her ten- year-old came bounding into the room wearing nothing but his Superman hugs and messy hair to offer one more malady,
"She also has a really bad case of the stinky farts."
And suddenly I didn't feel so bad for being forgettable.
16 Pieces of Opinion:
Oh, you silly ten-year-old. Do, do forget those things.
Yes...on Sunday at about 11:45 pm I remembered to return my movie by midnight so I could get the $1 credit on my account (I, too, have yet to Netflix), and guess who was outside working on their lights. At midnight. Crazies.
I find that my platform Mary Janes do the trick. Apparently 30 year olds are young and cool enough to still wear plats these days with knee-high socks. They seem to be making an impression.
You, forgettable? I think not. After the long years have gone by and we have gone our separate ways. I will remember you. Always and forever, always and forever.
I want the taking of the name of the Grizwolds in vain to stop. Because they are my holiday IDOLS!
I am with you. Do you know that I once received a calling because the leader saw W and said "And right then I knew that the person I should call was Waldo's Wife!." Didn't even know my name. Probably still does not know my name. We had been in the ward for 18 months. I taught her kids in Primary. Completely forgetable.
At least he said "Boots" and not "Boobs."
forgetable Clark...oxymoron. Haven't met one that I could forget. I think there is some sort of radioactive phosphorescant glowing DNA strand that gets passed along and the glow is permanantly embedded in the minds of most normal people you all come in contact with.
At least you can eat at Cafe Rio.. some of us have husbands who are Celiacs - Oh well.. So I'm trying to blog, Court, please help me. (haywusup.blogspot.com)
Did you ever think that it's THEIR fault of forgetting and NOT yours? You are NOT forgetable, I actually think of you all the time. But if you really think you need a schtick then do what I do... say the most obnoxious things and people CAN'T help but remember. It's THEIR loss if they forget.
The Bon Losee gals were just jealous.
Brandon just feigned forgetfulness so he'd have an excuse to look at your boots (I almost thought he said "boobs" too).
I'm sure all your readers will agree--you're unforgettable!
It's the tight shirt, short skirt combo that is bound to work. Boots help, too, I think. It's like the trifecta of unforgetableness. I, of course, have chicken legs so I avoid short skirts whenever possible.
I do the up-and-down, really rude once-over in people's homes. It's because I'm a neat freak and I just like to make sure that my house is cleaner than theirs. You have inspired me to stop. Just in time for my New Year's Resolution!
Thanks, CJane. I owe you one (promise I won't forget!).
Oh, I'm sure Sean Astin has not forgotten my friend.
hey i was at cafe rio yesterday too. i didn't notice any bon losee girls though. my salad was delicious.
I have a bad habit of looking at people's outfits. So, yes, I am one of those up-and-down girls. Sorry, I'm just deciding if it works and if it would work for me! But, usually the looking at the outfit means that it's likely not forgettable.
Here's what works for the up-and-down:
"WHAT?"
As for the forgettable thing: I'm with Shannon; impossible.
Some people are just forgetful--like J, who has problems with recalling people, no one specifically, just everyone. He also has a really bad case tonight.
I hate the up-and-down. I don't know why, but I always assume people are thinking the worst.
Maybe Brandon pretends to forget your name, just so he'll have more of an excuse to look you up and down.
These days I deal with up-and-down with a calm, steady gaze into the eyes of the offending up-and-downer, and I lock it in till they give. That took a LOT of practice, but I can actually do it now and sometimes enjoy it.
Unfooorgettable....that's what you are....unfooorgettable....from near or far.....that's why, darling, it's incredible....that someone so...unforgettable...thinks that I am...unforgettable too.
You are not forgettable, C Jane. And I'd rather be remembered for my boots than for my stinky farts any day.
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