Embracing Awkwardness

Since several folks found my previous post "awkward" (you can't handle the truth!!!!), I won't go into it. However, I feel there's nothing worse than whining to someone and then not following up with the outcome of whatever you were whining about. In summation: Jury's still out on my pituitary gland, and we've got more testing to do!

Ok, now that that's addressed:

So far I've found only one drawback to the new plantation. We're right around the corner from a vocational school for addicts and recently released prisoners--awkward!--and throughout the day one must walk down an aisle of ex-cons. This morning was intense, largely because some scaffolding over the Staples next door has provided them with plenty of lounging space. Trying to get through the rush hour pedestrians is hard enough without 30 dudes in the way, you know?

But what really makes it a pain in the ass is their attempts at getting your attention. It often involves a creepy lean in and then a shift back, often with the suggestion to "Slow down, Ma."

I'm not your mother. If I was, you'd be in law school.

Others then attempt to take a stab at it, utilizing all forms of poetic license.

This morning I was called the following names:

Chocolate Princess

Worky Worky (as in "Slow down, Worky Worky! It ain't time yet!"

MMMM-BOOTY!

Sugarfoot.

Yes, Sugarfoot. I have no idea what this means.

Just down the road from the vocational school is a "preschool for the arts," which proudly hangs Modrian-inspired paintings done by 3 year olds. Maybe I'm just a pessimist who watches too much To Catch A Predator, but creative preschoolers so close to men who've been...given a second chance is just an accident waiting to happen.

You may feel free to tag this post as awkward.