Yet More Ways to Make Me Feel Awkward
Following on from my posts on the 6 ways to make me feel awkward , and, er, more ways to make me feel awkward , today I present you with EVEN MORE WAYS to make me feel awkward. Because there’s apparently no limit to my awkwardness, is there? Or the number of times I can write exactly the same blog post, but pretend it’s totally new and different, apparently. Ahem.
Here’s what I’ve come up with this time…
Force me to be part of a group photo
There is a certain photo of our family which could accurately be titled, ‘7 Greeks & a Ghost.’ I am the ghost, obviously: because when you have skin as pale as mine, flash photography literally makes you glow – and not in a good way, either.
This is why I absolutely hate having my photo taken by anyone other than Terry: and sometimes even by him, really. I just… I don’t even look like myself in photos most of the time. I know you probably wouldn’t think it, considering all of the photos of myself you’ll find either here or on Instagram , but just know that, for every single photo I’ve sent out into the world, there’s at least 200 that didn’t make the cut. AT LEAST.
Post it on social media
That photo I mentioned above? It’s on Facebook, obviously: as are tons of other shots of me looking like one of the Undead, while surrounded by smiling, totally normal looking friends. WHY DO I LOOK SO WEIRD IN GROUP PHOTOS, THO? And why isn’t it illegal by now to tag someone in a photo without their written consent?
Have a conversation about me in another language
OK, so this only really happens on social media, thankfully, but you know when you post something on Instagram or Facebook, and someone leaves a lengthy comment in a language you don’t speak? And then someone ELSE comes along and responds to them, also in that language? Like, what’s the etiquette on that? Are you supposed to just ignore the fact that they’re talking about you on your own page? Are you supposed to put the comment through Google Translate or something, even although you know it’ll translate an entire paragraph of text as “Bang is crap,”* or something similarly nonsensical? WHAT?
(*Actual translation by the automatic captions on You Tube of something Max said in one of his videos . I mean, I know he’s only two, but ‘BANG IS CRAP?’ WHAT?)
Respond to my Instagram Story with emojis only
Every so often, I’ll post what I think is a cute photo of Max, and someone will respond with just the “crying” emoji. No, not the crying-with-laughter emoji – the LITERALLY CRYING one. This doesn’t happen on posts where I’ve said he’s not feeling well, or anything else that could explain why the sight of my child is apparently making someone sad, so why do they do it? Does the crying emoji have some secret, hidden meaning that everyone knows about but me? Did they just hit the wrong emoji by mistake? Because I really, really want to know, but, as with the above, I feel like it would probably be poor etiquette to respond by saying, “And just what do you mean by THAT then?”so instead I just leave it. And wonder about it forevermore.
Call me and make me guess who you are
I think it’s probably obvious from reading my blog that I don’t want you to call me AT ALL, ever. I mean, I love you, but seriously, that’s what Whatsapp is for. If, for some reason, you decide to call, though, please identify yourself at the outset, rather than doing that, “GUESS WHO?” thing some people are so fond of. Because, trust me, I will NEVER guess. But I’ll also feel too awkward about it to just ask, so I’ll probably pretend I know who I’m talking to, and… it just never ends well, really.
(I still remember the time I answered the phone to someone who, rather than just identifying themselves, decided to open with, “Hi Amber, how was your holiday?” I was twenty minutes into a detailed account of my trip to Miami before I realised I was speaking to the man we were in the process of buying our house from. Awkward. JUST TELL ME WHO YOU ARE.)