Saturday, December 17, 2011

The Awkward Moment When You Have To See Long-Lost Family Members

              Today, I had the pleasure of spending an entire day at my aunt’s house in California for a family reunion. The weather was nice and the beach twenty steps outside the backyard looked enticing. In other words, it was a perfect day in the making.
                Except for the family part of the reunion.
                After not living in/visiting California for a while now, seeing family was just kind of… uncomfortable to be honest. I mean, what in the world are you supposed to talk about? You always end up talking about two things: school and relationships (as the above picture describes quite precisely). Conversations usually go something like this:
                “So, Sarah, how’s school?”
                “It’s not bad. Can’t complain that much.”
                “Are you doing well?”
                “Are you in clubs?”
                “Yes, orchestra and After School All-Stars to name a few.”
                “That’s good. Are you studying for your SATs or ACTs now?”
                “So. Boyfriend?”
                “That’s okay.”
                “Is it bad that I don’t have one?”
                “ ‘Course not…”
                “Alright then. Um… erm… I think I hear my mom calling. It was nice talking with you Auntie…”

                Yes, I am a socially awkward person. It’s okay. Luckily, family cannot judge you because they realize that if they judge you, they’re basically judging themselves since you’re part of their bloodline and let’s be honest, they came before you, so who’s to blame? I’m not really sure if that sentence made sense; partly because it was an extreme run on. My English teacher that ignores me would tack off five points with a smile.
                Maybe I should work on some social skills before I attend the next family reunion; talk to a mirror for five minutes, then have some already prepared answers for the questions I know will be coming so people won’t be disappointed. Sure, I’m stretching the truth a bit, but it makes conversations with family less awkward, I don’t think anyone will be complaining. Maybe conversations will go like this:
                “So, Sarah, how’s school?”
                “Fantastic! I’m on the honor roll and a perfect 5.0 GPA!”
                “Wow! That’s impressive! Are you in clubs?”
                “Yes, I am the captain of the math team and I am the first chair in my orchestra!” (both of these are complete lies)
                “Not bad. Studying for your ACT/SAT?”
                “Of course I am- I take classes every Saturday and will be taking the ACT in January.” (um, have I mentioned that I have no intentions of studying that hard for these tests?)
                “Do you have a boyfriend?”
                “Obviously. He’s 6 foot 3, smart, athletic, and super nice, don’t you approve?” (well isn’t this a joke…)
                “Of course I do!”

That conversation will never happen… but let’s get over it.
Family reunions will always be awkward.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

The Awkward Moment When You Stare At Someone While Daydreaming

I love orchestra. Who doesn’t like playing instruments that damage your back and twist your left arm around awkward instruments that are shaped like, well, you get the point. Today, we had a test, yes, a test in an elective that’s supposed to be a blow-off class. Every year, the band and orchestra and choir collaborate together to piece together the song “White Christmas,” and every year, the band and the choir take up the stage, and the orchestra is forced to play on the wings of the stage, having the song memorize. And today, the conductor was testing all of the orchestra players to see if they had memorized their parts.
           As one could probably predict, I did not memorize the piece. The reason for this is half because I expected my doctor’s appointment to end much later than it did (I had been pulled out of school and hadn’t expected to get back until the class after orchestra) and half because the last time I picked up my violin to practice, one of the strings snapped in my face and it wasn’t a pleasant experience.
            The conductor said that we could have twenty minutes to rehearse before he tested us, and many of the students resorted to practicing like good Asians should (sorry, but about 90% of the orchestra is Asian). However, I really didn’t want to crack open the violin case that sat at my feet, so I propped my feet up on the case, leaned back , and thought about my health test that I was to take tomorrow that was on STDs.
            Of course, while I was thinking about this, I didn’t really think about where I was looking, because sometimes when I daydream, my eyes are open, but I’m not really seeing what’s in front of me.
            Oh, the poor cello player who probably thought I was mad at him.
            When I finally snapped back into reality, the kid who I was subconsciously staring at gave a wounded look, like he was afraid of me. Luckily, he wasn’t shy and came up to me and asked what I was so upset about, because apparently, I had been glaring at him and I hadn’t even noticed it.
            I’m real passionate about that health test tomorrow, that’s why I was glaring. I was in full concentration mode.
            Just kidding. Studying for health class is like pulling out teeth. It’s painful and to get it done, someone would probably have to put me on some kind of drug for me to go through with it (Note: I am not advocating for taking drugs while studying).
            I guess I’m lucky that people in the orchestra aren’t really shy with each other and are able to go up to each other and ask why they were glaring at them. Sadly, I am not as lucky to have those kinds of people in the other classes in which I daydream about random things (such as pancakes, like the guy in the picture). So, I’m sure that about half my social studies class thinks that I’m mad at them since I’m always daydreaming in that class.
            Perhaps one day someone will tell me every time I stare at someone, because that would be very helpful, and would perhaps avoid that awkward moment when the person you are staring at and you both lock eyes.
            Well, that’s all I shall write tonight.
            By the way. I passed the orchestra test. Standing in the back and being short has its advantages.

Friday, December 2, 2011

The Awkward Moment When Your Yearbook Drops On Your Head

Photo Credit to

              On Thursday, I came home from school extremely exhausted. I had just had a math test first thing that morning, and then right after, I took a Comparative Global Issues Test (which I probably got a C on, if I’m lucky). I was tired and was looking forward to a nice nap. I opened the door to my house, walked to my room, and…
            Tripped over something and landed on my face. I groaned and stood back up, only to fall again by slipping on a sock that I had left strewn on my floor in my rush to get to school that morning. I threw a mini temper tantrum before realizing that the closet space that I call a room was beginning to look more like a garbage dump than a living area. So, I got to work and began cleaning the place, completely forgetting that I was exhausted. I put a load of clothes in the washer, put books on the bookshelf, folded laundry that was supposed to be folded weeks ago but ended up under my bed, and cleaned up my dresser, which was cluttered with hair products and eye contact solution.
            Next, I started clearing out my actual closet, and to my surprise (although I really shouldn’t have been surprised), a book fell on my head, and then a whole bunch of books started raining down on me. After cursing everything around me, I took a look at the books that had tried to kill me.
            Middle School yearbooks.
            Ah, yes, the pain of taking pictures in the middle of your awkward stage. That acne that you thought was under control? It shows back up only on the day of pictures. The flyaway hair you paid extra to stay in place at the salon? Yup, it’s there too, only on the day that you need the perfect picture. Spaghetti sauce on your new shirt? Classic. Patchy eyes because you forgot you had pictures and stayed up late watching TV? They’re there.
            How embarrassing. It kind of makes you wonder years from now when your classmates pull out these random books (or if the books fall on their heads and they decide to open them) if they will look at your picture and go, “Oh hey, I remember her. Gosh, what’s wrong with her shirt? And that hair? Oh my Lord.” Hopefully people have more tact, though, and will go, “Oh, I don’t really remember her, but I’m sure she was somewhat normal.”
            Well, it’s a good thing I was exhausted and didn’t check any other pictures from my embarrassing past, or else I’d probably try to white out all my old photos. The second I finished looking at one of the photos, I got tired and fell asleep.
On the floor of my room.
Guess I just went back to where I started.