The Real Me

I look like a potato today.

I am so sorry to have to tell you this news. I know most of you had this illusion that I, Jennifer Fabulous, am this gorgeous, perfect goddess, who has never even seen a bad hair day. But it's not true. There are actually days where I look like something you should cook in a stew.

This revelation most likely comes as a huge shock to you. I feel awful. Sort of like I'm revealing to you for the first time that you were actually adopted. (You're weren't. I don't think so. Shit. Maybe.)

I wish I could be one of those flawless beauties who gracefully sits down on an uncomfortable chair and makes it work. I'm not. I'm the tangled hair girl who sits on the chair and gets the cushion stuck to her ass.

I'm the girl who tries to act seductive, only to have the guy ask, concerned, "do you have something in your eye? You keep twitching."

I'm the girl who doesn't know her wrap skirt isn't tied properly and suddenly realizes in horror that she's walking in her underwear down the school hallway.

I'm the girl who makes awkward jokes at inappropriate moments.

I'm the girl who accidentally hits "send all" on a dirty text meant for her boyfriend.

I'm the girl who somehow gets an entire bottle of ketchup all over her outfit and hair during a first date. And when the guy tries to help, gets the entire mustard bottle all over him.

I'm the girl who looks like a potato when she doesn't wash her hair for two days.

That is Jennifer Fabulous. I'm awkward. I'm ridiculous. I'm me.

Now that I've introduced myself (two years into this blog), let me transition to the next phase of this post: My blogging game.

You can catch up on it here.

Day Six: Five people who mean a lot to you.


My family

(I had to clump them all together, I'm afraid).


Rian

(Our four year anniversary is in mid-November. Holy shit).


Kerrie

(Duh.)


Jenn

(She has been like a sister to me for 13 years...she's getting married in a couple weeks. I still can't believe it).


Jonny

(The male Jennifer Fabulous, who is a musical star in Branson).

Now you know the real me and my inner circle.

I am exposed.

So, today at work...

The most bizarre thing happened at work today. I'm not sure what to make of it.

You see, a few months ago my company hired this temp to do secretarial stuff in the office. Her name is Linda and she is a middle-aged woman who always smiled shyly at everyone in the newsroom and kept to herself. I don't ever remember her talking before today. She was just quiet. A very motherly figure.

Well, this afternoon she went through the drive-thru at Wendy's for a baked potato, to bring it back to work for lunch.

When she got back to her desk and opened her potato, she gasped really loudly. She dropped the potato on the floor and started pointing at it, like it was a mouse.

"Th-th-they forgot sour cream!" she said. "Oh my god. They forgot to put sour cream on my baked potato."

She then started smashing her hand on her desk so loudly I thought my heart was going to stop.

"They forgot to put sour cream on my FUCKING BAKED POTATO!" she screamed, her face turning purple. "Those fucking Wendy's people forgot my FUCKING SOUR CREAM!"

And then she crumbled to the ground and started violently sobbing.

I was so stunned, I just sat there and watched. I was alone in the newsroom with her, so I was scared. An advertising executive rushed into the room to see what was going on. When I explained, he suggested that Linda go back to Wendy's to see if they could give her some sour cream or replace her order.

Linda didn't like that idea.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD I GO BACK TO WENDY'S AFTER THEY FUCKING BETRAYED ME?" she shrieked at him. "I'M GOING TO FUCKING SUE THEM!"

She picked the baked potato off the floor and threw it in the trash can and left the office, muttering stuff about suing Wendy's. I stared at the advertising executive, with my mouth open, but he just shrugged casually, like going completely insane over sour cream was normal.

And that was it.

So, yeah.

If my life ever gets that unbearable, to the point where I'm going psycho over a baked potato, I want somebody to hit me over the head with a frying pan, just like they do in the cartoons.

Because I'll need it.