Friday Confessional

I’ve been needing this but I thought I would do something different. So instead of bullets and incomplete sentences, here is a confession of epically (okay, really it’s mediocre but I don’t have a life) stupid proportions.

I have a problem. A flaw, if you will. But only one. Just don’t try to verify that statement with anyone who actually knows me, please.

I tend to monopolize any social situation I may be in. I become this crazed peacock, fluffing my feathers in everyone’s faces saying, “LOOK AT ME!! LOOK AT ME!!” Until everyone within a 2 mile radius is thoroughly sick of me.

Such instances may include but are not limited to: The time my friend bought her fiancée lingerie for Valentine’s Day and when I found it, I immediately pulled the thong on over my pants, grabbed a toilet brush and started singing and performing for all to see. Or the other time at a large church dance with a Halloween theme, I jumped up on stage while Peter Breinholt  belted out his tuneages  and proceeded to do some wicked awesome clogging in my ridiculous costume for all to ‘enjoy’. How about the time I went to ElRey’s work party and felt our table was just too quite so I decided it was a good time to tell these semi-strangers all about how I asked a guy out to the Valentine’s dance in high school fully expecting I’d get some NCMO (non-committal make-out) only to end the night kiss free and jaded. It’s always a good idea to tell random people you were a little on the skanky side in high school, right?

No one is safe from my performing needs. It can happen while giving a talk at church, teaching a lesson, it’s happened in college classes and even just sitting around the table at some church activity.

I always come away from these moments so embarrassed by my shenanigans, I almost can’t bare facing the people that witnessed me spiraling out of control after the fact. I am proof that you don’t need large amount of alcohol to make a fool of yourself. Sadly, I have no way of erasing the memories from my mind without the power of inebriation. I must face my shame.

I call it “The Mindi Hour”. And it’s commercial free!

The most recent episode of this was Tuesday night. I had volunteered to do a little lesson on Genealogy work at the Relief Society (the women’s organization in my church) get together. You know, flaunt my super amazing expert knowledge with the masses. All day before I was trying to figure out how to make it a small lesson since it’s a huge topic and I had a projector planned so I can show them stuff on my laptop. I even made a super cool handout for everyone. Anyone who knows me knows that  handout in a sentence with Mindi is kind of an oxymoron. So I was a little impressed with myself. Anyway, the projector fell through and I thought as long as I had the handout, it’ll be fine. Then I started having technical difficulties with my handout because computer literacy and Mindi in the same sentence is an oxymoron. By the time I had that fixed, I had no time to go to Kinko’s to copy it and just prayed I could get into the library at the church to make copies. BUT…nobody had a key. All I had was a chalkboard.  Suddenly I was on. I’m sure for the women in the room it was like a train wreck that they just couldn’t help but stare. The lesson went okay with the exception of me saying at one point that I might punch someone in the face and the other time a teased this cute older lady of having a crush on Steven Tyler even though she claimed swore she didn’t know who that was. It was after I said “amen” that things went south. I did everything but throw on a thong and tap dance-and that’s probably just because I didn’t have tap shoes or a thong handy!

I always feel like I should end the evening with a “Thank you and goodnight! Be sure to tip your waitress and try the veal! I’ll be here till Thursday!” As my ‘audience’ walks out feeling confused and slightly violated.

I really should just stay home, people.