Monday morning I walked up to my Barista, she asked me what I would like today. I smiled, and like a stroke victim, said "hi welcome to red lobster, how can I help you?" That's me. Hello, my name is Lily Fairman, and I make people uncomfortable. My Barista was kind enough to overlook my craziness and continue the ordering process. However, I knew it was weird, and so did she. What about boys? For most of my life I blamed them for all the painfully awkward encounters. As I have matured I see that I am at fault for almost all of these "situations". They make for great stories, but living them is not half as fun as telling them. Someday I imagine a very confident, resilient man will be able to overlook my lack of male/female social skills. Until that day, all I can do is laugh about it. One of these classic moments was the time I spit a giant, masticated piece of pizza on Bob Marley in the eighth grade. We had gone camping that weekend, and were all happily eating pizza around the picnic table. He was one of the guys in youth group who was nice and cute enough to have every girl like him just a little bit. I have always had a problem with talking, probably always will. Eating doesn't usually change that. I was young, I was talking, and a giant piece of soggy pizza flew from my mouth onto Bob Marley's back. The worst part? He didn't notice. Even worse? Everyone else did. I panicked and reached my arm around his back to casually brush it off. He thought I was making some sort of romantic gesture. He shrugged me off! The entire table was laughing. He looked at me humiliated, and annoyed. Like I was some weird girl who liked him a little too much. What he didn't know, is that I just didn't want him to realize I was the girl who spit food on him. These moments? They're life. It happens. And we're dedicating Wednesdays to talking about them. #awkwardwednesdays Here are some of my awkward inspirations:
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AuthorMy name is Lily. Archives
October 2016
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