I have been called many things in my lifetime. Heck, my ex husband has called me every name in the book. Generally, I have learned to let names just roll off my back. This one however is sticking like glue and maybe writing about it will get me past it.
I was told after maybe 5 minutes of conversation - I was MOUSY. Now my first thought was "What the hell? This is the most put together I have EVER looked. My hair was perfectly blonded (all hail the root touch up), shiny and straight. My lipgloss was subtle (fab shade of L'Oreal Infallible Le Gloss 465 Red seemed at bit much), and I had on a long sleeve t-shirt, long red tank top underneath, a red scarf, skinny jeans that I was finally able to squeeze back into after a year (HOLLA) and black flats to tie it all together. I almost didn't believe it was me in the mirror. Yes I sound totally vain - but I rarely look that good. I soon realized though that he meant my personality.
mousy, mousey [ˈmaʊsɪ]
adj mousier, mousiest
2. shy or ineffectual (a mousy little woman)
The shock. The horror. I mean hello - I am usually the most outspoken person I know. This blog wouldn't have lasted a year if I wasn't! But the more I have let this fester like an open wound on my psyche - I realized he might be right. (Damn I hate admitting anyone who isn't me is right)
I am taking HUGE steps by subjecting myself to these coffee house interrogations (and yes I think I lost huge points by telling him I felt interrogated - whoops). I am not a sober socialite. I do have a wall and quite frankly it takes some time for me to bring it down. It isn't going to come down over drinks at Starbucks near a very busy ATM. Had we hit the cantina - this might be a whole other post. I have good reason to have a wall having dealt with things in my past I would only wish perhaps on Fred and only because he is on my shit list presently. I am shy and I told him that long before we met. I am working on banishing those demons who sing me songs of doom and gloom because I AM PRETTY, I am interesting and I am smart. I wasn't as deep as he was, but he didn't have to spend 4 years watching Yo Gabba Gabba. That will kill anybody's intellect by at least 10 IQ points. Maybe I don't know who Wes Anderson is or get my news from The Daily Show, but I am a self proclaimed geek - not a hipster.
So Code Name Hot Chocolate - I AM mousy and you know what? Because you didn't feel you could take the time to scale that wall and to get to know me - you will never realize that I am so much more than that shy and ineffectual woman you met with for an hour. AND you will never get to hear this mouse squeak!
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