|I hate you! You're ruining my life!!|
I'm not generally a drama queen, but I can haul it out and whip it into a frenzy when the moment calls for it.
Usually, I'm pretty calm. I'm easy going, friendly, giggly, talkative... everything you expect AND MORE in a pint-sized package of fun from California. (I'm short, fyi. In case you were looking at my profile pic at the top of my blog and determining from it that I am, indeed, tall. Which I'm not. At all. My driver's license claims that I'm 5'2 and I am. In heels. That's all I have to say about that.)
I'm like one of those "fun size" Snicker's bar. Open a bag and you've got a party, am I right?
|Like this, except I don't have nuts.|
But every once in a while, a fit is called for, and when a fit comes calling? I answer.
And nothing triggers a giant fit faster or harder than accusing me of something that I actually did.
I first discovered the Power of the Hissy Fit when I failed 8th grade algebra.
I didn't fail because I'm stupid, I failed because I didn't bother paying attention in class, doing my homework, or taking notes. I also really hated my math teacher, Mr. Yost. And I'm pretty sure the feeling was mutual, because in art class I drew a life-sized caricature of him that was so spot-on that my art teacher, who in retrospect probably didn't think any more highly of him than I did, hung it up in the library.
Then I gave him the immensely clever nickname "Post Raisin Brain." (I know... I know... Hilarious!!)
Bottom line: I was a little snot.
So I'm sure it was with great satisfaction that he failed me in algebra and then had a conference with my parents, who were not amused by my brilliance.
According to him, I failed because I didn't pay attention in class, spent the entire hour I was in his care talking to the person sitting behind me, passing notes, doodling rude pictures of him, never turning in any homework, and bombing out on every test.
In short, I wasn't Living Up To My Potential.
My mother was furious.
My happy little ass was grounded for the first time ever in my life, and I was... horror of all horrors... GROUNDED FROM TALKING IN THE PHONE.
I burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably about how unfair it was that they believed Mr. Yost, who HATED ME FOR NO REASON AT ALL, over their OWN DAUGHTER. I informed them through tears, snot bubbles and hiccups that I tried sooooo harddddd to understand algebra and just didn't get it. I hyperventilated over the tragedy that I was so good at everything else and felt so ashamed of my failure in understanding math that I was too embarrassed to ask for help and instead, muddled along in a sea of confusion, while Mr. Yost, that horrible, terrible, awful, unfeeling man, refused to help me because for some reason he just doesn't like me.
Probably because I was pretty.
This performance proved so effective that I was taken off of groundation, allowed phone privileges once again, got to have my friend Shelby stay the night on a school night, and was taken out to dinner because I was so upset.
Light bulb moment:
|By George I think I've got it!!|
There I was, being rewarded for being upset about being accused of something I actually did. My parents were falling all over themselves apologizing to me about being angry with me about something I totally deserved to be punished for.
Pulitzer Prize, here I come.
Worlds opened up for me.
Even though I was young, I knew not to abuse The Power. I could only use it on special occasions, when absolutely necessary.
Like when I came home from school reeking of beer and cigarettes.,,
And my mom wound up apologizing for accusing me of drinking and smoking.
Which I was.
But HOW DARE SHE THINK I WAS DRINKING AND SMOKING!!
|I can't believe you would accuse me of such a horrible thing!!!|
Or when I got caught cutting class with my friend, Kara, and the school called to let her know I had indeed not been where I was supposed to be.
I WOULD NEVER CUT CLASS!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE THE TEACHER WOULD MARK ME ABSENT EVEN THOUGH I WAS BUSTED RETURNING TO CAMPUS WHEN I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE IN CLASS, WITH LIQUOR ON MY BREATH AND A PACK OF VIRGINIA SLIMS MENTHOL LIGHTS IN MY HAND!!!
|That isn't me standing there with my pants around my ankles and my peener in my hand!!! How could you even think that??!!|
Or the time I was caught climbing in through my bedroom window at 2 in the morning and my mother DARED to accuse me of sneaking out!!!
|I did not have sex with that woman!!|
As an adult, I only use this to my advantage when something big goes down, like when I'm caught with a credit card in my hand on Zappos.com as a giant page reading "Thank you for your order!" appears on the screen in front of me.
You wouldn't think it would be possible to get indignant about being accused of buying something we absolutely cannot afford when you were caught red-handed at the exact moment that the deal went down, but you'd be surprised.
I have at least four really nice purses in my closet that came with an apology and an ass kissing that I 100% did not deserve.
And now I'm going to share with you my secret:
This is why it works.
Because I really am furious that I would be accused of such a thing. I really am. Even though I know I did it, even though I know I've been busted, there is still a part of me that simply can't believe someone would think I could do such a thing.
Accuse me of something I didn't do and I'll probably shrug and go about my day.
Accuse me of something I did do?
You're going to accuse me of that?
You actually think that I, of all people, would do such a thing??
|I would never wear a leopard print thong!!!|
I hope I offered you some valuable life advice today. This is National Pay It Forward Week, so consider this my gift, to all of you.
Use it wisely.
Use it wisely.