Monday, March 28, 2011

Confession - I've Been Humbled

Some days I feel pretty good about myself. 

I think I look good. I think I have great style and taste. I think I'm the best mom. I think I'm the smartest thing since sliced bread. Or something. 

But that rarely lasts longer than two minutes. Five, tops. Because, in the next moment, I'm wiping someone's butt or picking up 5000 grains of rice off the kitchen floor. And I've been humbled. 

"I've been humbled."

I have been hearing this phrase used by celebrities a lot lately and they are usually using it incorrectly.

"500 people waited in the pouring rain for me to sign a book for them. I've been humbled."

No, you haven't, you tool. Those equally crazy people have just boost your insane ego over the top into la la land. You have not been "humbled."

You want humbling?

Try finding this photo of yourself in your iPhoto archive. You will never again feel good about your life's choices. 

Taken seven years ago, right before my wedding, it conjures up so many questions. So many mysteries surround this snapshot. So many puzzling inquiries without a single answer. 

First, and most obvious...

Why am I posing with a tire? 

In my final moments as a single gal, was I having cold feet and needed the security of steel and rubber to anchor me to the ground?

Did I think that tires were funny? Was it my idea or Elise's? You can see her reflection taking the picture. I demand to know who takes blame credit for this moment!

Is that supposed to be a provocative pose? How did I ever get Larry to agree to a wedding?

What am I wearing? Was I coming from work? Am I a closet lesbian? Have I burned those hideous, ill-fitting grey slacks yet?

Do I still look like that? If so, someone please put me out of my misery. 

And, the most important question...

What's with the pink plastic purse?

Once upon a time, I went to UCLA and received a bachelor's degree. Then, I went to NYU's Tisch School of the Arts and got my Masters. I had a good job in an education nonprofit as the Director of Literacy. 

But here I was, caressing a tire, clutching a pink plastic purse and SMILING. With bedroom eyes. 

I really don't know what I was doing or why I was doing it. I appear to be happy. 

But I am sad. And definitely humbled. 

If I ever write a book, please do not wait in line for hours for me to sign it. Remember this picture and just stay home. 

It's better for both of us that you do.

Good night. 

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