The Object:
The Origin: Grenada, Spain
The Backstory:
You guys? I liked vlogging so much that I’m back for more. That’s right, you don’t get the juicy deets on the tea unless you let me tell you.
[vimeo 44875224]Read the rest of the series here.
The Object:
The Origin: Grenada, Spain
The Backstory:
You guys? I liked vlogging so much that I’m back for more. That’s right, you don’t get the juicy deets on the tea unless you let me tell you.
[vimeo 44875224]Read the rest of the series here.
I’m addicted to Words With Friends, a Scrabble-like word game for smart phones. I only play it with Will because I’m not very good (in fact, I actually call it “Words with Fiances” because I’m adorably dorky like that).
Scrabble was not a popular game in my house growing up. We were more into UpWords, Scrabble’s less popular, faster moving friend. When we did play Scrabble, it was with an emphasis on speed. If you did happen to get your word on a triple letter score, bully for you, but we likely weren’t even keeping score.
I’ve played several games of Words With Friends with Will and only won once. Generally, his score is in excess of a hundred higher than mine. The other day, I commented that I suck at the game. His response stuck with me.
“Could it be that I’m just good at this?” he asked.
Yes.
Now let’s parse this for a lesson (because life is more fun when you over-analyze):
First, I need to stop turning things into negative self-reflections. I’m probably better than average at Words With Friends … I have a decent vocabulary. Will’s just better. He’s really good at stacking words one on top of the other to make words horizontally and vertically at the same time. Yeah, it blows my mind, too.
Second, I should take time to recognize the talents of others. “I suck” and “you’re awesome” have the same number of words (yes, a contraction is one word in my book). Will sometimes shows me the games he’s playing with other people and yikes! My man has some wordsmithing talents (as do some of his non-Helena opponents. I’m looking at you, SHL!)
While this particular application seems a little inconsequential (it’s just a game, after all), I’m positive that, like other metaphors, it can have broader implications in the real world.
My current situation requires me to be in New York City during the work-week for the foreseeable future. I miss Will. I miss the cats. I miss my home.
Alas, I’m trying to be Silver Lining Girl!I mean, I’m in New York City – things could be worse. Turn that frown upside down, Lady Liberty!
Currently, I’m making mad dinner plans.
I met Erin on Tuesday for a burger at Sweetwater (and then drinks at Breuklen Bier Merchants as Erin clearly knows the way to my heart).
I had wine at Brooklyn Heights Wine Bar with Abby last night.
Next Wednesday, I’m meeting Michelle for Indian at an as-of-yet-undisclosed place of her choosing.
With the exception of Michelle, who I met at Alt, I hadn’t met these ladies “in real life” until this trip East. Those of you who abstain from Twitter because you aren’t sure what you’d get from partaking, I can now give you concrete examples: you get friendly dinners when you are out of town.
I’m also making plans for Will and my sister to come visit me here in my new pseudo-home. They are both pretty excited to have someone to visit in The Big Apple.
[Speaking of which, does anyone in New York actually call it “The Big Apple” or is it like how no one in Chicago says “Chi-Town” or chuckles lightheartedly about the wind?]
Beer. Wine. Naan. New friends! Visitors! Silver Linings.
*Live in NYC and want to meet up for a drink (in a well-lit public place in case one or both of us are creepers)? Let me know!*
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This will come as little surprise, but I’m what they call a “people person.” I love meeting new people and sharing stories. I’ll talk to anyone who will listen.
I wasn’t always like this.
My childhood spanned four states so I spent a decent amount of time as “the new kid” at school. While the move from Virginia to Texas happened when I was young enough to be unfazed, the subsequent move to New York three years later had me starting Junior High and starting over in a new state at the same time. I used to blame the move for my awkward silence as I entered 7th grade, but it’s recently become clear that 7th grade is just universally awkward.
I barely slept the night before the first day of school. While I’d spent the last few weeks of Summer vacation in my new town, I’d hidden in my room behind well-worn copies of The BabySitters Club. I was entering Victor Junior High with no friends whatsoever.
The day started poorly. First period was Math, and while this subject was a favorite of mine, I’d made the mistake of getting up, mid-lecture, to sharpen my pencil. Mrs. L stopped her discussion of the tenets of Algebra to stare at me. I slowly turned to meet her gaze.
“Oh no, we’ll wait. By all means, keep making noise,” she hissed.
I slunk back to my desk, beet red.
I didn’t speak to anyone all morning. Lunchtime came, and my fear of my classmates hadn’t waned. Convinced my pencil debacle had forever tainted me in the eyes of my peers, I made my way to an empty table to eat in the company of my invisible Scarlet P.
Two tables over, a girl arose from her seat. She caught my eye, smiled, and started towards me. As I looked up at her, speechless, she introduced herself (we’ll call her MC as those are her initials), reminded me that we had French together, and invited me to sit at her table.
I can’t relay many specifics about the rest of 7th grade (or Junior High in general), but the image of MC approaching me in the cafeteria that day is easily recalled in great detail. I sometimes wonder if she remembers me at all. It likely wasn’t a momentous day for her. Being nice was her nature.
That moment in the cafeteria with MC is part of the reason why, in any kind of group scenario, I track new people like a heat-seeking missile. It’s so easy to make others feel welcome. It may be schmaltzy to say that a little effort goes a long way, but it’s true.
Seventeen years later, and I’m still thankful MC made the effort.
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