Do You See What I See?

When I see other people typing, they look so smooth and fast. When I look down at my typing, I feel like it looks like Wack-A-Mole. I remember when I was young, I used to watch my mom type really fast without looking at the keyboard, and I was very impressed with this skill.

And even though I now have that skill myself, it doesn’t seem the same at all! Even though I type really fast, too. It’s like that phenomenon of hearing yourself.

I hear myself all the time. I talk a lot! So, why is it that when I hear a recording of my voice, I am always shocked at how I sound. “Is that ME?” I say, incredulous, “Do I really sound like THAT?” Why is it so shocking? If I sounded out loud like I do in my head, I would be one smooth line away from being a radio-DJ or maybe a voiceover actor, but only narrating life, like JD in Scrubs, or Kevin on The Wonder Years.

I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who wasn’t at least mildly surprised when they hear themselves on a recording. It’s so weird. You “hear” yourself as one way, all the time, and then when you hear it, not in your own head, but in a recording of something, it’s always like “What? Who IS that, singing my song/reading my poem on that thing?” Also--when you’re wearing earplugs, and you talk, you sound weird in your head then, too.

On the other hand, I look like this.

That's my new Beardo! I got it online. It's a warm knitted winter beanie (that is about 17 times larger than my head could possibly ever need, even if I were to sustain a head injury that blew my head up to three times its normal size. Then I'd STILL be able to wear this hat with the inflammation, and also have room for one of my friends to join me in it.) with a detachable knitted beard and mustache! Winter, come at me, bro.

When I mentioned my thoughts on how I think I look weird when I type, my friend Megan said to me, “You should try typing like an old person. With only two fingers, poking at the keys like you're nervous something will bite you.” Officially the best-ever way to describe old people on computers.

But it brings up an interesting, yet mortifying thought. What does everyone else see when they see you? You look at yourself in the mirror every day, you see your face and body, but do we see ourselves the way everyone else does? This certainly isn’t something I bother to obsess over. Let’s face it, there are so many other things that I could obsess over, like why my oreos don’t seem to be uniform. Why is it that the stuffing isn’t the same in every single one? They are machine-made, so how is it possible that some have more delicious stuffing than others? I demand equality in my snack cookies! There should be no caste system, no race wars, in the cookie world. I will stand, and I will fight for cookie equality! Someone give me a sign to hold up passionately.

Standing right on the corner of Hmph Avenue and Pfft Lane, I realize that some of the things I may obsess over a tiny itsy bit about are a tad irrelevant. Why does it bother me when people leave 7 seconds left on the microwave? Why am I so annoyed when I buy a bag of air, only to realize there are 5 potato chips at the bottom of the bag? You don’t know me! I may need that bag of air for something really important, like popping it and freaking my boyfriend out when I am stealthing up behind him, and then you choose to force me to give him a potato-confetti shower with my stealth bag-popping? Is that what I ordered? Also annoying are people who use hashtags on Facebook. Again, I’m not sure why this bothers me, but I am crystal clear on the fact that it does. Especially those people who post one picture of fall leaves, but have 27 hashtagged words. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but if every one of those words are hastagged, then I don’t care what your picture has to say.

So, I am anticipating 2 more packages in the mail today. Boyfriend’s birthday is a week before Christmas. And everyone knows that you can’t give one gift for both, unless it is so amazetastically awesome that it can conceivably make that person excited enough to accept one gift for two of the only gimme-gimme-gift-giving holidays in the whole year. No one is handing out gifts on Columbus Day or Arbor Day. You only get your Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa, and your annual celebration of the anniversary of the day you were ripped out of your warm cozy womb and into the cold, cruel world with a slap and a bath.

This baby is not pleased with the recent turn of events.

The point is, I am in happily waiting in anticipation of the last of the packages I ordered from online, only to be frustrated that it is late afternoon and they haven’t arrived. THANKS FOR GETTING MY HOPES UP, UPS.COM. YOU ARE RUINING MY LIFE! I hope you’re satisfied.

I’m going to go ahead and put this out there, though: I am a good gift-giver. I love getting people something I know they’ll love. I am also a smart gifter: I am keeping both his birthday AND Christmas gifts at work and not at home, so that he can’t sneak a peek.

In other news, I already know what he got me for Hanukkah and I WANT IT RIGHT NOW. But, alas, I am not allowed to have it until actual Hanukkah. MEGA-POUT. It’s super great and I do so love shiny objects.

I started this post with typing and hearing weirdness and somehow ended up going on about gifts. Well...that sounds about right.

I guess I could start chatting about something else entirely. Hmm... how about this: Passive aggressive people make me aggressive. But in a more active way.

I mean, I find passive aggressive notes funny, when I read them online. And I do read them. You just can’t help it, they are funny! But in real life, I am not the passive aggressive sort. I am not going to hmph around and sigh at the sink full of dishes, I’ll either wash them myself, or ask the person whose turn it is. I am not going to post irrelevant and annoying sticky notes all over the place with things I don’t like. I will straight up say it to your face. I don’t really understand that passive aggressive approach. Things tend to work out faster and with better results when you just talk to someone face to face! So, why resort to snotty notes to get something done? Does anyone else see snotty notes and immediately have the urge to do the opposite?

In more exciting news--look at my new ZOMBIE KEY COVERS! (If you, too, need some adorable little brain-eating cuteness on your keys, they're only $6!--go here!)

My keys are going to be the most feared keys on the whole block. Braaaaaaains!!