As I delve/plunge hopelessly into my adult life, I would love to be a social butterfly, gliding effortlessly between different people and situations, to later find myself calm, collected and perhaps, even a tad sophisticated.
The reality? I am an 18 year old girl who, despite being socially competent, finds myself at the centre of awkward situations and can do nothing more than go a baboon's bum shade of red before proceeding to go home and cringe in private. I'm not necessarily awkward in myself, but I seem to be attracted to awkward situations which, in turn, makes me... well... awkward. When I was 14 my friends even said that I had an 'awkward conversation voice,' which somehow became a regular topic of conversation.
Maybe an example will put this into perspective. About two weeks ago, I had popped out to Tesco to buy flowers, as you do, and instead of listening to music as I normally would, I thought I would just live in the moment, take note of my surroundings on this lovely day and just be. It was then that I unwittingly looked over at the queue of traffic to be greeted by two thirteen/fourteen year old boys hanging their heads out of a car window with grins on their faces, shouting 'Are those flowers for me?' 'Bless,' I thought (albeit slightly patronisingly) and smiled. No need to provide a response, just a small smile to acknowledge their somewhat adorable remark. I continued to walk with a smile on my face, ironically thinking how sweet young teenagers can be when they both simultaneously shouted 'MILF!'
Excuse me?! What?! I am an 18 year old girl, I thought, and I have just been called a milf by two teenagers who, I might add, had their parents in the car laughing away. Responsible, I like it. But nevertheless- whaaat?! I won't lie in saying to you that I freaked out just a little bit. The day that I left the house with no make-up and looking a bit disheveled was the day that I was likened to a mother by two boys that could only have been four or five years younger than me, certainly not an age where I could seem like a motherly figure to them. Cue the existential crisis- such fun.
However, I ended up in an even more embarrassing situation a few weeks ago, one that thankfully didn't involve me addressing whether I have child bearing hips and a face that says 'Stephen, go and do your homework right now!'
After realising that the extent of my daily exercise regime was walking from my living room to the kitchen in a search of biscuits, I decided to get a gym membership. Two weeks after that, I was on my way to my weekly spin class and due to, as I later discovered, a local college open evening, there were hardly any parking spaces.
It was 7.10pm- my class was in 5 minutes.
I eventually found a space after glaring at the man who was reading a book in his car and clearly didn't need this parking space anymore. Praying that I wasn't too late, I ran to the gym (even up the stairs!) and into my class. 7 minutes late, I thought. Not too horrific for someone that five minutes ago, was intensely glaring at a middle aged man who refused to move his car.
As I dumped my stuff and prepared for my imminent pain from the exercise, I was greeted by my instructor. Or at least I thought I would be greeted. It turned out that you can't enter the spin class late and.... I was kicked out. Yes, I had to go. As a girl that was always deemed the goody-two-shoes in school and stayed as far away from trouble as she could, I was made to leave a fitness class. It didn't help that most of the class watched me attempt to shuffle out inconspicuously with, yet again, the baboons bum red face.