I’ll confess that there are moments when my life feels like an R-Rated episode of I Love Lucy. Just such a moment occurred on New Year’s day, when I brought my MacBook into an Apple Store in a busy mall for repairs. Everything was going smoothly until the Genius Bar guy asked me to turn it on. I turned it on, all right.
You know how when you boot up your computer various applications open depending on your settings? Trust me, they do. And one of those applications is your photos. And if the last photo you took is a picture of you, dressed only in your panties, contorting your body to check out the size of your butt in the mirror, it could lead to much awkwardness.
It was one of those experiences when time seems to slow down, and everything moves in slow motion. My finger descends to the start button and an image of a huge, marshmallow-like tushie fills the screen. I react by frantically pushing every key I can find, including some on the guy next to me’s computer, while the Apple Genius Bar guy keeps repeating over and over, “Scroll down! Scroll down!” Fellow shoppers turn to face us questioningly, and then sounds of shock travel through the crowd. I slap my hand down over the offending image, in a desperate, low-tech attempt at modesty, while I start mentally calculating how much the therapy for this one is going to cost. And if I can get a group rate. As an aside, Apple Stores are crowded on New Year’s day.
The thing is, as embarrassing as that experience was, and believe me, it was embarrassing, I’m still alive, and now I’m laughing about it. Actually, I’m fairly sure that many people are laughing about it, especially the other Apple Genius Bar employees. There was a point in my life, however, when I wouldn’t have laughed. Back then, I tried very hard to be as careful and as cautious as I could be, so that I could avoid seeming uncool at all costs. The younger me would have anticipated the possibility that I could become the Larry Flint of the Apple Store, and would have changed the damned settings. I spent a whole lot of time worrying about how I looked, and how I acted, and what people thought of me … too much time.
The thing is, no matter how careful I was, stuff like this still happened to me. If I had remembered to ditch that picture, I would, undoubtedly, have tucked my skirt into my pantyhose instead. You see, I am now convinced that I was put on this Earth to write romantic comedy, and all of this is just material that God is generously giving me to use, so that I can make people laugh. Frankly, I much prefer that theory to the possibility that I’m just a big dork.
My point, and I do have one, is that whatever makes you, you is special. Don’t spend your life trying to be someone else, or before you know it, life will pass you by. Whatever your own quirks may be, just embrace them, honey. Let your weird light shine! Some tuchises are meant to be seen. Happy New Year!