Friday, December 20, 2013

The Problem With My Face

Before anyone makes any sort of asshat comment on this topic, I'm addressing the problem with my face, Eminem-8-Mile style, sans the rhyming.

I've grown up thinking one thing and living another. I'm a walking oxymoron, and I'm finally admitting it. I've always thought I had the ability to disguise surprise or emotional reactions when necessary. When your boss says you'll have to stay a few hours later tonight, a twitching and twerking homeless person walks by you on the street, and/or someone revealing tragic and heavy information with the implication you already know. The situations have varying instances and topics, but I have continually held pride in my ability to keep a somber face when needed.

I have now learned that isn't true. It might, also, be my newly found shameless approach to just not giving a shit if I show people they're nuts. Recently, I've noticed myself doing it.

Case #1

I was having a casual conversation with a few coworkers in the kitchen around lunchtime. We were all discussing Christmas plans. I'm like a child that can't hold in a surprise when I talk about my Holiday adventures. So, I, naturally, go first, as in shout it out loud first. Once I've related my childish excitement over seeing my family and loved ones, one coworker in particular says, "Oh, I'm only visiting family for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I can't spend too much time with them, if you know what I mean."

While others nodded and chuckled in agreement, I stood there with this solidly confused look on my face.

No, I don't know what that's like and in no way am I hiding that from the look on my face. I'm not sorry.

Case Dos

I've been living in Los Angeles for a little under a year, and have seen my share of interesting people. Crackheads make up a large part of this category. As I'm walking into a Social Security office one fateful afternoon, I waited and blatantly watched a crackhead get tackled, tased and handcuffed by the entrance. My countenance appeared as follows.

You just can't look away. I did, however, refrain from taking a photo or video, although most bystanders did not. Kids these days..

Case C

I made the common mistake of shopping at Target over the Holiday season. And while my credit card seems to be intact, my facial reaction has not. Because my dog eats just about every pair of underwear I own, I am buying more underwear than I care to admit. There was a 5 for $25 type sale running and I took advantage. I got to the register and, of course, the sale wasn't computing correctly. So the sales clerk spoke into her radio asking for a manger. Being responseless for a minute, the sales clerk was determined to take action. She stepped out from behind her counter, waved down a manager using my underwear as flag  and yelled, "the underwear deal isn't ringing through for this lady!" The beads of sweat formed on my brow as I assured the semi-apologetic-not-really-sorry sales ass(hat)ociate that it was fine she wave my delicates for America and smiled like this to everyone around me.

I've basically decided that my somber reaction has officially gone. LA is too full of weirdos to suppress that shit.

Thanks for soundin' down.


catechism ( /ˈkætəkɪzəm/Ancient Greekκατηχισμός from kata = "down" + echein = "to sound", literally "to sound down" (into the ears), is a summary or exposition of doctrine, traditionally used inChristian religious teaching from New Testament times to the present.[1] Catechisms are doctrinal manuals often in the form of questions followed by answers to be memorized, a format that has been used in non-religious or secular contexts as well