Awkward Laughter

Because most things in life are humorous, even when they shouldn't be

Playing in Sandbox


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Playing in the Sandbox: 30:30 Somethings

If my affinity for the male “species” didn’t start at birth, it began soon thereafter. My mother loves to tell childhood stories about it.

While my sisters cried like banshees whenever my mom left the house, I pitched a fit until my father took me along with him to construction sites, my building blocks in tow.

Building Blocks

Photo credit: Fabienne from morguefile.com

While my sisters joined my mother and other visiting wives in the kitchen during football season, I plunked myself down in the middle of the living room with the men, watched the games, and “sneaked” sips of my dad’s Budweiser. Continue reading

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Photo credit: seabreeze at morguefile.com


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April Foolishness

If bad blogging Karma exists, I’ve caught it.

Last month, I posted The Perils of Un-drunk Dialing, in which I poked fun at an ex-coworker for being less-than-adept in her use of voice mail and warned against misplaced drunk and sober texts, calls, etc.

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Photo credit: badeendjuh from morguefile.com


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The Pat, Pat, Pat and Other Thoughts on Hugging

Wrapping up a lovely brunch on Sunday with a few of my closest girl friends, we stood on the sidewalk for a few moments to say our goodbyes.

“It’s like we’re all waiting to hug each other,” my friend Jodi quipped.

“Well, you know that’s not on my mind,” I retorted.

Everyone laughed. They know I’m not a hugger.

Before you get all judgy and assume I need counseling for some deep-seeded aversion to affection, let me explain. It’s not that I don’t hug people. I just subscribe to a self-imposed hugging etiquette that’s evolved over time.

Photo credit: badeendjuh from morguefile.com

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Paris Selfie


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By Self or By Stranger: Photos While Flying Solo

Selfies, selfies, selfies (cue my best Jan Brady impression). They were everywhere I turned this past week.

They were the inspiration for the WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge. Lots of wonderful examples of artistic selfies.

They were the focus of a PicMonkey infographic based on its survey of American adults. It turns out men in my age group are the worst offenders. I can attest to that based on the abhorrent profile pics I’ve seen on eHarmony. For Pete’s sake, men, get some friends and have them take your picture!

PicMonkey Selfie Infographic
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Bridge in Paris


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I Can’t Make this Stuff Up!

There’s a reason I rarely write fiction. I struggle with “keeping it real” – the advice my middle-school teacher gave me years ago.

“Your ending seems a bit far-fetched,” she wrote in the margin. “Good fiction should be grounded in reality.”

Little did she know that my story was based on real life. I’d just tweaked the names, the setting and added a detail or two.

My recent trip overseas reminded me of how life can be stranger than fiction.

Bridge in Paris Continue reading

Angel Cat Collage


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An Open Letter to Cat-Check Boy

Dear Cat-Check Boy,

You don’t even know that’s your name, and I confess I’ve long since forgotten your real one.

I met you in 2003. Your strong face and blue eyes struck me from across the bar. You stood out amongst the lackluster men I had encountered since moving to that small town.

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Photo credit: clarita from morguefile.com


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Good Luck? Bad Luck? What Luck!

A few weeks ago, I posted D’oh!, an embarrassing confession about how I included a typo in the domain name I reserved for Awkward Laughter. Day 21 of Zero to Hero (I’m playing catchup) challenged us to revisit that post and expand upon it.

Rereading D’oh! got me thinking about the unexpected ways life unfolds. Maggie from The Zombies Ate My Brains commented:

“That’s actually quite sublime! The universe knows what it’s doing sometimes, don’t you think? Thanks for sharing!”

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Sabrina


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Pardon My French, I’m Southern

A woman from the lower-eastern U.S. speaking broken French sounds about as poetic as Dr. Suess in Swahili. Those were my initial thoughts after learning that I had the chance to go to Paris for the first time.

Nonetheless, I was determined to take advantage of my work trip to the UK and to make a detour to France, the homeland of my paternal grandmother’s family. Continue reading