1. Hugs
I’m not “a hugger.” I don’t say this with pride, as in I’m proud to subscribe to a sect of humanity that considers themselves “non-huggers.” It’s more that I’ve never figured out how to gracefully be an affectionate person. When I was in 7th grade, I started having girly friends who would say things like, “You have muscular calves.” The only way I could think of to respond to a compliment was, “Thanks, I think.” I just wasn’t sure what to do with non-sequitur, flat-out niceness.
I only like hugs in 3 scenarios:
1. With my immediate family
2. With my boyfriend
3. With cherished friends, but only when we’re wasted
Otherwise, it’s an express train to awkward town.
2. Eating Sushi
As a kid, I ate sushi exactly zero times, and thus my parents never got the chance to instill in me the age old wisdom and etiquette of eating sushi without looking like a total moron. Do you shove the ginger into the sushi? Layer it on top? What about the wasabi? How much soy sauce can I dip it in before I look like I look like a tacky American with troubling blood pressure? And the chopsticks – what do I do with those, exactly? Do I pick the sushi up and eat it in one bite or gnaw at it slowly as it crumbles into a bunch of different bunches of sticky rice and tuna? Please don’t judge me.
3. Ending a conversation
In linguistics, there is something called “negotiating your way toward silence,” which explains the technical mores of ending a conversation. It’s not just a functional thing, it is actually a negotiation, a tug between two people who just might have varying levels of desire to keep that conversation going – or not. Certain people I meet do not seem to understand how to “negotiate toward silence” and will simply keep a conversation going forever. I fear these people.
4. People’s Parents Buying Me Stuff
My parents were never big on buying stuff for my friends, so whenever a boyfriend or friend’s parents buy me not just a meal, but appetizers, a drink and even a ticket to some cool event, I am totally floored. I feel guilty and cheap, but also kind of fancy. After years of offering a crumbled five dollar bill to someone’s mom wearing ruby earrings and an expensive ski jacket, I’ve just given up and learned to accept it like a greedy little kid.
5. Responding Appropriately After a Friend’s Impressive Public Exhibition of Talent
Oh, you were so good in your dance show! You’re kind of famous now, I mean like, in this entry way where all the ballerinas like you are wearing a lot of blush and holding a hundred roses. Should I go over the top with my compliments, or just give you an awkward hug and a bit of technical praise? I’ll go with the latter.
6. Times When I’m Supposed to Cry
As a kid, I rarely cried. My inability to show what I saw in my hysterical friends as a desirable ability to exhibit deep emotion made me incredibly insecure. I was hesitant to see The Titanic and I flat out didn’t see The Passion of the Christ for the sole reason that I was afraid I would not be able to join my 13-year-old friends in sobbing passionately. “What’s wrong with Becky? Is she satan? Did she want Jesus to die?” I imagined them saying.
It wasn’t until I went on the birth control pill that I gained the ability to cry. “Oh, hi female hormones. Glad you’re here so now I can cry at Coca-Cola santa commercials.” It’s not a problem anymore, but I still get anxiety about not being able to cry during times when I feel that I should. Before most breakups, my main worry is literally, “How can I turn on the waterworks?” The fear of looking like an emotionless monster preoccupies all the other icky emotions. This goes for funerals too.
7. Ski Lifts
In Girl Scouts, I was always the noob when it came to “hitting the slopes.” I liked actually going down the (bunny) hill, but the tow rope and the ski lift absolutely confounded me. Rare are the times I don’t fall down and become tangled in my own skis while interacting with either one, once even causing an old lady to stop, mid hill-bomb, and help me up. And after seeing the movie Frozen (don’t see it), I have a straight-up phobia of ski lifts.
8. Newborn Babies
I was the youngest person in my family until I was 22, so my interactions with babies were nil. Now I have a niece and nephew, so I know that I won’t break them if I hold them, but I’m still not sure what to do when confronted with one. I’ll point out how cute it’s little fingernails are, comment on its quantity of hairs on its head, but I’m still nervous to take it from the mom and actually hold it for awhile. A bunch of women “sharing” baby-holding time makes me want to – oddly enough – take even more birth control pills so I can get the lady hormones I apparently lack.
Ok, that’s enough. Feeling pretty awkward now.
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