Several years back, I decided to date a younger man – and by younger I mean 10+ years my junior. Adding to the awkwardness of my could-be-boyfriend choice was the fact that I worked with him.
My friends and I dubbed him “New Kid on the Block” when he first caught my attention. For months, the two of us flirted, he poked and prodded around the dating edges, and I agonized over whether I should give him the signal to proceed. Continue reading
Glass of wine and remote in hand, I lounged on my couch unwinding from an intense day at work. I’d been assigned to a project with one of the senior leaders in our company, and my brain felt drained from hours-long strategy sessions about the appropriate communications plan for a highly contentious issue. Continue reading
Funny thing about voice. What you think you sound like and what you actually sound like are two com-plete-ly different things. You know what I’m talking about if you’ve ever listened to yourself recorded. And in the age of voice mail, who hasn’t? Continue reading
Picture this. I stood on the floor of the concert hall dancing along with The Avett Brothers as they performed on stage 30 feet in front of me. Surrounded by friends who love them as much as I do, I didn’t hesitate to sing butcher their songs like any good horrible guest band member would.
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Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Drug addict.
Drug addict, who?
We’ve all been there before, right? A little too much wine, beer or moonshine mixed with loneliness turns into an inescapable urge to reach out to _________ electronically.
The result: words, typed or spoken, that you’d pay $1 million to retract.
The solution: step away from your phone and computer while intoxicated.
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“What were you wearing?”
In hindsight, those words my mother uttered both infuriate and amuse me. But let’s rewind 24 hours to put them into context.
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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.
Know your target audience. That’s the first lesson taught in TV news, and one I learned many times since switching to marketing as a career.
Perhaps that’s why this experience, related to my father fighting lung cancer, stands out clearly six years later.
In comparison to the length of time many writers have devoted to their blogs, mine is in its infancy. But since I never plan to birth a child, I’m going to consider it my baby, take a page from first-time parents everywhere, and celebrate Awkward Laughter’s milestones in months this first year.
Don’t worry. I won’t bore you with a post each time. I already skipped January. But this one, or more specifically, the 60-day mark jumped out at me.
Sixty days is:
In my book, 60 days of sticking with anything that doesn’t pay my bills is something worth celebrating. Plus, I like any excuse to open a good bottle of wine.
![By Kotivalo (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons](https://kimjamerson.files.wordpress.com/2014/03/alcohol-bottles.jpg?w=150)
Awkward Laughter 