Do NOT judge me for reading “CelebrityFix”, just enjoy the show…

Last night I used a public phone to call Hubs from the shops and it was SO exciting. I’d left my mobile at home and I was doing some shopping and I didn’t really NEED to call him but there was a public phone just sitting there, looking all lonely, so I thought I’d have some fun.

Best 50c I spent all day!

spaghetti and bolognaise – good
bolognaise on toast – good
cheese on toast – good
jam and cheese on toast – good
vegemite and cheese on toast – bad
vegemite and anything – bad
banana and honey – good
banana and tuna on toast – bad (yes, I know someone who tried it)
mango on toast – bad
mango – bad
mango flavoured frozen yoghurt – good
natural yoghurt and bran with some honey – good
vegemite and honey – see above
milo – good
peppermint tea and milo – bad

And you?

It’s my job to order to the key lanyards at the end of the year, so if students (or staff!) lose their keys, the person who finds them can call the number on the lanyard and tell us where the keys are. In a perfect world anyway. Most of the students discard the lanyard as soon as they are given their keys. Anyway. I get to choose the colour and last year I ordered a lovely orange, to contrast with the previous year’s blue. This year I chose purple. Hooray! My favourite colour! The colour of the lanyards have nothing to do with this story, but I like purple so I thought I’d mention it. (And from the looks of my blog, I like the combo!)

They arrived today and look stunning. I gave the first one to my boss (well, one of my bosses – when you’re this low in the pecking order, you have many) and she put it on her key chain. A minute or so later she came out holding the lanyard, looked at me, and said “The phone number is wrong.”

In the 3 seconds before she cracked a smile and said “only joking”, my brain had processed the following:

“Crap crap crap. Hang on, they used the template from last year so that means LAST year’s number must have been wrong, but I know for a fact that it wasn’t wrong. Someone at their end must have stuffed up. It’s not my fault! Hooray!”

Am I the only one here impressed by the speed of my thoughts right there? Maybe it’s the thought of getting into trouble (yes, I’m a scaredy-cat) that makes me think so fast. But seriously! Never mind how gullible I am, LOOK AT MY BRAIN POWER!!! At this rate I’ll be able to take over the world sooner than I thought…. Mwah ha ha ha ha haaaaaa….

I’m such a dork*. No, really. I sometimes look at myself (either in the mirror or in my head) and just think “Gee I’m a dork.” I’m one of those people you see at the shopping centre, dragging along her little granny trolley while tying to hold a shopping basket as well, wearing pants that are a little too big, bending down to get the yoghurt, dropping half of the stuff in her basket, and trying to pull her pants up. All while giggling to herself. (Yes. This actually happened to me.)

I’m one of those people who will glam up for an occasion, hoping people will notice how hot I’m looking, but then turn up to dinner the next night in a Muumuu and thongs with my hair sticking out at crazy angles, and not give a crap what anyone thinks. (Yes, I do this regularly.)

I’m one of those people who sings 80s songs out loud, anytime, anywhere and think that everyone is laughing WITH me, not at me. Oh, and I also used to LOVE going shopping with my 2 besties in high school, and start singing along to music that was being played in shops. It used to drive them nuts, which made me want to do it even more! (I was a really annoying teenager.) Of course, I would only do it in the shops I didn’t like, and wanted to get out of. (You know who you are! It was all part of my genius plan! Mwah ha ha ha ha.)

There are just too many other examples to speak of. I think one of the things that really enhances and compliments my dorkiness is my clumsiness. Seriously. I’m one of the clumsiest people I know. I was clanging about in the kitchen the other day and I dropped the water bottle twice – once when getting it out of the fridge, and again when putting it back. Hubs didn’t even flinch.

So I asked “How come you don’t even flinch when I drop or smash stuff?”
His response? “Because it happens all the time. Whenever you’re in the kitchen, I hear *crash* “sh*t” at least once or twice.” I thought about it and then laughed a lot. It’s funny cos it’s true! (And I need to stop swearing!!)

So Hubs might be King of the Nerds, but I’m definitely Queen of the Dorks. And a very proud Queen at that.

* the general definition, not the USA definition. I hadn’t even HEARD of that being a potential meaning of the word. I had already written this post before looking up the definition, and you know… I don’t care!