Things you may already know about me:
-Rather than participating in fun 20-something escapades, I thought a good option was to spend another decade in school.
-I am ridiculously clumsy . (I once ran a motorized scooter into a fence, and all my white clothes are coffee stained).
-I think a fun evening is watching a documentary in the bathtub
-I make up words (see title of this post).
-I write blog posts about slugs and encourage people to vote on ugly animals.
-And don't forget my passion for nerds!
The obvious factor uniting all of these things? While my boyfriend may (bless his heart) call it being cute, the truth is, I am a bit of a dork.
This came to me yesterday after I stood up from my seat on the bus (as it is very bad manners in my city to not be at the door by the time the bus comes to a halt), and promptly slammed my head on a metal pole as the bus driver tapped on the brakes, loudly proclaiming my pain.
This lead to me to consider a few of my other more dorkish tendencies...
As one would expect from one of such a geeky nature, I am rather reliant on my USB stick for holding onto all my nerdy essential.
Unfortunately, while I can remember the seven primary cognitive distortion in Major Depressive Disorder, I cannot remember to remove my USB stick from a single computer, which results in my losing it approximately once a week, with frantic searches ensuing.
This week? I convinced myself I left it behind at one clinic, and emailed my project partner in a tizzy, because it had the latest version of our paper on it. We figured out a comprehensive plan to deal with the missing paper... only for me to find the USB stick at the bottom of my bag on my way to another clinic the next day.
And then to leave it at that clinic, where I only go once a week, and is an hour away from my house.
I, like everyone, make silly mistakes. I don't think you need to be a dork to do this.
But what you happen to do if you're a dork is rely solely on self-deprecation as a coping strategy.
Prime example? I was doing some neuropsychological testing on a fellow, and happened to turn a stimulus page the wrong way.
Not a big deal, right?
Well it was after I decided that the unbearable tension in the room after such a faux pas needed to be broken by overtly making fun of myself and my coordination.
I am stellar at keeping a professional air about me.
While I can occasionally wander into the realm of oversensitivity, I generally hold my own as a reasonable emotionally stable person.
However, the neurotic in me comes out in random situations, one of them being whilst caught in rain storms.
I am easily goaded into little tantrums when my poor toes are soaking. I've been known to slam my fists into my legs (which has been called the penguin by observers), stomp my feet, and pout like a little girl if a car cuts me off or sprays me.
(It would be much cooler to pull out a creative profanity at times like that, rather than sulking.)
I think my personal favourite failed rainy day tantrum was when, after a car nearly collide with me at a rainy crosswalk, I started flailing my umbrella at his hood, both to make sure he noticed his role in my near-death experience, and because I felt like a childish display of anger was justified.
Did he notice? Doubtful. But the force of my swing did made half of my umbrella collapse, thus resulting in an even more miserable remainder of my journey.
I can't even pull off pedestrian rage correctly!
Lastly, I am a little dorky in my attempts at creative plots.
A film is currently being filmed right above where the psychology clinic is located on campus. And not just some bad CBC movie-of-the-week-based-on-a-true-story (I heart CBC-- Canadian Broadcasting Company, for my non-Canuck readers, but their attempts at drama can be pretty damn week)-- a real Hollywood movie!
Starring Michelle Pfeiffer, Kathy Bates, and Mr. Moore himself (not Michael), Ashton Kutcher!
Princess and pal decide, that since the shoot is actually tremendously inconveniencing to us (there is currently an enormous black tarp covering the entirety of the windows of one side of the clinic, and we can't take most of our shortcuts), we deserve to do a little star spotting.
We set up a plot of being dumb lost students, to see how far we can get.
(Note to self- next time, try something more glamourous, like someone's assistant or even make up a role in the film).
We managed to get onto the film set, and most of the way to where filming was actually taking place (there was some sort of makeshift wall blocking our view only a few feet away) by playing dumb and telling the crew "we just need to get to that hallway just past where they are shooting".
However, just as we were about to have the right angle, we were confronted by some lead crew guy, who didn't believe our confused naive little students game, and actually made another crew guy move a massive heavy tarp covering a door to get us out of there.
I would make a horrible spy.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Things you may already know about me: