(You know I love you since I am showing you this picture- taken today. BUT, I apparently don’t love you enough to show you the un-cropped, full-booty shot that my mom just SENT OUT TO MY ENTIRE FAMILY.)
(Whatever, this hiney snagged me a HUSBAND!)
I am having some social repercussions from our New Jersey experiment.
One of them being, after my year and a half of nearly-solitary confinement (aka no friends! sad!), I am still having some trouble with eye contact.
Ack! So embarrassing. But, you guys! It’s kind of tricky!
I think I am finally getting the art of conversation back, and my tongue no longer gets sores on it from too much talking after so much non-use (shakes head in self-pity)
But the eyes? I think they are the last kink I have to work out before I am friend-fabulous! Or, you know, normal again.
It is especially tricky with men!
Want an example?
Cue conversation with a man,
I am holding my own,
and a few minutes in, I start to tune him out and think about my eye contact.
Insert inner dialogue here:
“Oh no! I think I am looking at him for too long! Is it getting inappropriately eye-contacty?”
“Quick! Look down for a minute”
“There you go, Caitlin, now look back up at him…”
“and…AWAY! Look down I think!”
“Oh no! Maybe now he thinks that he is boring me and that I’m not interested in what he is talking about! Look up! LOOK UP!”
“AH! TOO MUCH! TOO MUCH EYE CONTACT! Umm… maybe pretend that your eye is bugging you? Thaaaats right, rub your eye a little and look to the side and blink, blink…”
“Now it’s looking like a twitch Caitlin! STOP IT! STOP RUBBING AND BLINKING! Return eye contact!”
“Okay…too long! Smile and look to the side! TO THE SIDE!!!”
And… its over.
One of the many reasons it is probably good that I was married at 20.