Ginger Cavemen

Dear Blog,

Among the wonderful, philosophical - and occasionally pointless - things running through my head today, I've been thinking about being embarrassed.  I was the kid that knew plenty how to embarrass herself, but never has gotten down that whole "ten years from now you'll laugh about this thing."  I think about some of those incidents, and I'm still not laughing.  Just embarrassed.

Like that time we traded spelling books to correct in seventh grade, and the teacher began to talk on and on about something else, and I forgot we'd traded books, and I began doodling on the cover (including my name!).  I felt really bad for the kid whose book I doodled on, especially because it was a boy and middle school was not a kind time for people who had people of the other sex's names written on their books.

Or yesterday, when I may or may not have smiled at a complete stranger, or the guy who sits next to me in Intro to Christianity.

Or any manner of things in between them all.  You should hear the stories my family tells.  I think Scottish people were invented as a race bent on embarrassing all of the members of their own society, such that only the most unaffected by such repeated stories will survive and perpetuate the race (I had historical geology today... did you know what color hair neanderthals had?  Red.)

So, yeah, I'm one of those people who embarrasses herself far too easily.  Yet, apparently, feels no shame in posting her shortcomings on the internet.  Though, that's probably because I am all to aware that everyone else is all to aware of their own shortcomings, and that I'm fairly certain that there were people in high school who thought I was a stuck-up academic snob, which isn't true, but I can understand why I came off that way...

Sorry for my neglect to post.  Lovely blog, I did not mean to forget to feed you.

Love,

Judith