How to cope with extroverted awkwardness--love Regette

Today, I was mocked for laughing at someone’s idiocy. The idea of it! Ludicrous, and not the R and B/hip hop artist. It made me a bit frustrated, almost…angry.

Yes, awkward person that mocked me for laughing at them, I do have coherent, intelligent thoughts. I only laugh because I don’t know what to do with awkward people. I don’t mean awkward as in the socially inhibited way that I am awkward. This awkwardness is far, far worse. The awkward people I speak of are in-your-face, sing-you-really-bad-popular-youtube-parody-video-song, awkward.

I laugh, because it is the compromise between punching my tormentor squarely in his nose like the Discovery Channel has told me to do if I encounter a shark or fleeing in terror. I laugh, because when those mocking eyes are singing that stupid “Friday Song” or whatever it is, as loudly as possible, much too close to my face, I feel like my life is a really bad joke. One of those jokes the boys tell on long, sports bus-rides. Except minus the part where some gets screwed.

For example, yesterday Honey and I walked my neurotic dog three miles. Of course, during this walked we ended up walking by a house with a suspiciously low fence, and a garden bursting with beagles. Now these beagles started howlin’ “A-woo-A-woo-A-woo”--(which roughly translates to “What you lookin’ at, you filthy b****. Move yo’ fat a** outta my street”), and my crazy mutt nearly dislocated my arm trying to get at them, all the while making this high pitched shrieking whine ( meaning “You wanna go? I may seem little, but you ain’t seen nothing’ ’till you seen 38 pounds of lean muscle come tearin’ after yo’ a**.”) Parents from a nearby little-league baseball game stared and the beagles disgruntled owner glared at me as he came after his own dogs with the garden hose. So I laughed.

I don’t so much mind that life is a bad joke, as long as I can find a smile in the ridiculousness of it all. I’ll just keep laughing--albeit a bit empty-headedly and socially awkwardly--but that’s how I’ll get through it.

Laughing works for me.

Always your butterfly,
Regette “au contraire” Henesey