It’s true that you are never too old to learn. It seems as though I learn something new every day and inevitably, what I learn is that I need to learn more. I admit freely that I am a dork and that I am spastic and my spasticity and dorkiness know no boundaries. That means, in some ways, I am a free spirit. I prefer to say that all of the spastic things about me are just part of my charm and yes, if you know me, you must agree.
What I have learned most recently is that in certain social situations, my spasticity is not always charming. And it doesn’t always serve me well–at least that’s how it feels. Who the heck knows?
Case in point: I learned a valuable lesson from my dorkiness recently. I learned this the hard way, in excruciating embarrassment and groaning as I mentally kicked myself and envisioned watching my body explode in gory humiliation. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t that bad–but in my mind, it was pretty freaking awful.
I was conversing with a very cute guy that I liked and would have enjoyed getting to know better. He asked me “What kind of plans do you have for the rest of the evening?”
The correct response should have been something witty and flirty like, oh I don’t know, say something along the lines of “I don’t have plans, would you like to go hang out?”
Yep, that would have been a winner, but not with my spastic nature. Nope. My brain went into a tailspin as it tried to keep up with the thoughts that were grinding at warp speed through my brain.
What does he mean by that? Do I have something in my teeth? Is he wishing I would go away–is that why he asked? I wish I had some blueberries. I need a new ringtone for my phone. This guy is really cute. Does my butt look too big in these jeans? Plans for tonight? Don’t I have kids somewhere? Did I paint my nails? Oh yes, I did. Should I say yes? Wait, did he ask me something?
All of that grinding went on in the span of a millisecond then CLUNK, my brain froze up and what emerged from between my lips shall haunt me forever.
“I have to go to Wal-Mart.”
Yes. That is exactly, truly, what I said. Almost before the words were out of my mouth my brain re-engaged in a broken-record pattern with “Must die. . .must die. . .must die. . idiot be thy name. . .”
I felt as though I had a scarlet letter emblazoned upon my chest, my forehead, my back, leaking out of my ears. Except this wasn’t a scarlet letter ‘A’ for adultress, it was ‘S’ for spaz.
The truth of the matter is, I am a spaz. I’m a dork. I say the nuttiest things and I usually laugh it off–as does pretty much everyone who is around when I have a spastic moment. Except for the cute guy who was probably wondering if I’d been let out on a weekend pass and when would I go back.
The life lesson I learned is this: I can’t change who I am, and I can’t be someone I’m not. I don’t want to be. I like who I am, even with all of my spasticity that makes everyone around me shake their heads and giggle.
Who knows, maybe sometime down the road there will be a cute guy who will laugh at the crazy things I say when my brain is clunking and will think it is simply charming. A girl can wish can’t she?