Friday Confessional: Public Bathrooms

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . October 16, 2009 . 11:20AM

Alright, I have many neurosis, but I hate public restrooms. Most of you do, too, but not to the extent that I do. It’s not that I “can’t go” or anything like that.

I’m shy. That’s right. I’m shy.

I listen when you pee and I know you listen, too. Don’t pretend you don’t. It happens. There was one time an elderly woman was in the stall next to me making such serious fireworks that I snorted while I laughed. I couldn’t help it.

I’m immature, but it was hilarious.

So, when you sit in the stall next to me, I freeze up.

And here’s what I do.

I count to 13. Slowly.

I have no idea why it works, but it does. If I can count to 13, I can pee. It’s not the most compelling confession, but there you have it.

Friday confessional: I’m becoming my grandmother

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . October 9, 2009 . 12:11PM

You never saw that one coming, did you? I’m 30 and I’m becoming my grandmother. Some back story is required here for a proper confessional.

Since I was little, my grandmother would be sitting in chairs and would just fall asleep in the middle of conversations. To my knowledge, she was never diagnosed with narcolepsy or any other sleep disorder. We laughed at her mercilessly and she’d tease us back by saying, “You just wait until you get older.”

That day has come. I won’t say where I was last week, but I’ll say I was sitting in a quiet climate where I needed to focus and I had some serious trouble staying awake. And I noticed that I was nodding off. Out of nowhere. And it’s happening more frequently.

Yep. It could be because I’m an insomniac. Or it could be because I’m turning into my grandmother.

You decide.

Friday confessional: People that sleep with their eyes open freak me out

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . September 25, 2009 . 10:34AM

It’s true. People that sleep with their eyes open freak me right the flip out in a major way. There are 2 people in my house that sleep with their eyes open, at times, and one dog. What this does is convinces me, almost daily, that they have died in their sleep and I must shake them.

The progression goes something like this:

I notice the person is sleeping with their eyes open.

I watch for a while to make sure there is REM (rapid eye movement), where the eyes move back and forth slowly to indicate that the person has entered deep sleep.

I make faces at the person to see if they are really sleeping or trying to freak me out.

I laugh because they don’t know I’m making faces.

They may not breathe for a second.

Their eyes stop.

Oh no!

Wait.

Are they alive?

I shake them hard.

They snort, roll over, and have no idea I just woke them up from REM sleep.

I sigh happily that I can no longer see creepy open-eyed sleeping.

It freaks. me. out.

Confessional Friday: I hate talking on the phone

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . August 14, 2009 . 11:02AM

It’s time for another confessional Friday.

I’m an introvert by nature. People that know me tend to forget that when they first met me, I likely didn’t say much at all to them. When I am in large gatherings of people, I tend to talk only to the 2-3 people sitting next to me, unless I know all of them well. I generally speak when spoken to if I don’t know the people sitting next to me.

Recently, I was at a huge gathering of people that are friends with Leon (and some I will reluctantly claim–you know who you are). I was sitting between a publisher that I’d never met and Leon, who was talking to a friend of his on the other side. I’d also never met several of the people at our table. I quietly munched on some bread when the publisher looked directly at me and said, “this side of the table is awfully quiet.”

I tried to swallow the bread, which promptly got stuck in my throat, and mumbled something about it definitely being less lively than other parts of our rather long table. At which point I did something I never do: I went into counselor mode and started using my interviewing skills to ask him questions, because, frankly, I had no idea what to say.

I didn’t probe his mind or do anything unethical. I simply asked him some “getting to know you questions,” but I was quite uncomfortable for the first 20 minutes or so. About the time I began to grow comfortable with his company, he left to do some other tasks for the get-together we were attending.

Such is my life.

What does this have to do with talking on the phone?

Without those visual social cues, I often have difficulty judging where the other person is heading with a conversation. I like non-verbal language. I can tell a lot about a person from that non-verbal language. I think my clients appreciate that about me because I can often learn just as much from their non-verbal language as I do from their verbal language.

When I’m on the phone, I lose that ability. I dislike it. I have to keenly focus on pitch and tone and “trying to keep up the conversation,” which, for an introvert, is exhausting.

Bottom line: Unless I know someone well or we have lots to talk about or you are ok holding the majority of the conversation, text or email is best.

I hate talking on the phone.

Friday Confessional: Mini-confessionals

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . August 4, 2009 . 10:38AM

Last week, I did mini-confessionals, and it seemed to go over well. I’ve got a whole moleskine page in my planner filled with blog ideas, so I think I’ll do one more of these to clear it up a bit so I can have some of my planner back. Also, I’m getting ready to go to Chicago for Labor Day weekend, and time is short. I’m ok with being lazy.

So, without further ado, my confessions:

I’m co-dependent on my family. When any of us goes out of town or to visit family, the rest of us are mopey the entire time. Leon travels a lot for this job, which means that AJ and I spend a bit of time being moody. Believe it or not, the pets get that way, too. The only being in the house that isn’t moody or mopey is the cat. Go figure.

I’m territorial. If I could pee on my blog to mark it as mine, I would. The only time I’m not territorial is with my clients. I do what’s best for them. Otherwise, if it’s mine, it’s mine.

I hate shoes, especially dress shoes. If I’m at home, I rarely wear them. I prefer sneakers and flip flops to any other kind of shoes and I’ve chosen two professions within my field in which I can wear sneakers every day. I’ve got it covered.

When I tell my son he’s the coolest boy in the world, I truly mean it. No one else makes me laugh the way he does.

I went to a fortune teller once. She told me I’d have 3 children and live to 83. I don’t believe either, but I’m ok with both.

I hate dressing up. I recently went to a wedding where someone I saw at least twice a week for 3 years at church services said “this is the first time I’ve seen you in a dress.” I do believe she was telling the truth.

I’m only buying shirts in jewel tones from here on out. I was told this week that yellow makes me look “fresh” and other jewel toned shades make me look good. TWICE in ONE WEEK. Jewel tones. That’s it.

Before I started my practicum, I honestly worried that I couldn’t be around other people’s children all day and be happy. After one full day of observing them, I adore them like crazy. I even have my own mini-stalker. She’s precious and asked when I’d be back to observe her classroom again. PRECIOUS.

Other people’s kids, once you’ve grown attached to them, don’t stop being “your kids.” I discovered this at last Friday’s scrimmage game where AJ’s team played other teams against his old teammates. When I would yell for them and encourage them, the other parents from our team would look at me like I’d just farted on them and walked away. Whatever. Those are still “my kids.” Screw you.

Whew. That’s enough. My soul is bare for today.

Now, share some of yours with me!