Sometimes Life Is Scary

Sometimes we do things that frighten the beejeezus out of us. For me, it's not something like skydiving or riding a motorcycle in a miniskirt or hanging out with the hookahz in D.C. (not hooking, just hanging out...)

Everything I've ever done, I've done well. When I give answers I'm generally right. That's not bragging - the trick to all that is I *don't* do what I don't do well. Skiing (water and snow), ice-skating, dance? I kicked arse from the get-go. Tennis, golf, bowling? I think I've done each (maybe) twice. In my life. Basically, anything you can do as a solitary endeavor, I rock; things you have to do in a group (or that generally involve someone other than me) frighten me.

I can take any general info standardized test and score in the 90th percentile (or higher), but I can't speak in front of an audience to save my life. As a matter of fact, I almost didn't pass the comps in grad school because of this inability.

A few people have recently confessed their nervousness at attending their first Stitch-n-Bitch (or facsimile thereof) meeting. Y'all aint got nuthing on me. I knew Purl and Miss K virtually, but I still (get this) had to take 2 antihistimines, a cocktail (gin, of course), and a VALIUM to calm down enough to walk up the stairs at the Farmers' Market. Seriously.

Most people think I am one of the bravest people they know. If only they knew the truth. I'm brave when it comes to things that scare normal people. I'm a little chickensh*t when it comes to normal stuff.

Like. . . Asking for favors. I was brought up poor and proud. In my mind, needing help is a sign of weakness. EVEN IF I KNOW THIS IS NOT TRUE objectively, subjectively my insides curdle at the thought. Included in this are things normal people have no problem with - like asking for a reference letter from a teacher or a boss, or advice from a friend who's career is relevant (like, talking about a MEDICAL ISSUE with my BEST FRIEND who is a DOCTOR, or asking my boss, who is a LAWYER for LEGAL ADVICE). Or, asking a complete stranger for a charitable donation.

Every year, Wee Monkey Gurrl's school holds a high-brow "Silent Auction" to raise funds to pay for the auxiliary services the school offers. Now, this is in addition to the "annual donation" (about $350), and the catalog sales and the candy bar sales (in this day and age?! Where are the healthy-eating police when you need them?!) and the t-shirt sales, etc., etc. FOR A PUBLIC SCHOOL. I think this is a great school (when they're not constantly hitting me up for my non-existant dollars), so when an opportunity recently arose, I took advantage of it... FOLKS, I ASKED FOR A DONATION.

And you know what? The earth didn't stop turning. I wasn't immediately struck by lightening, and the Four Horsemen didn't come.

Ah'z so proud of me.

And by the way, he said "yes." So, y'all, seriously, if you're in the WeHo area and want to hit a gallery, or if you're in the market for Fine Art, go to the Glass Garage Gallery. Because it was my first time and he was ever so gentle with me.