Questions from Strangers

I got invited out for drinks the other night with a few of my friends from college.  During the course of the night we met up with some of my friend Chris’ colleagues.  Chris is an incredible person who is more excited about your victories than you are, and he so sweetly introduced me as his friend the author who is having a book published in a few weeks.  The question that comes next is one that I am delighted by and dread in equal measure. 

"What kind of a book is it?"

I try to fight my embarrassment while saying that I wrote a memoir, because what is douchier than a person writing 300 pages about themselves after they haven’t even been on the earth for 40 years?  Nothing, you guys, there is nothing douchier than that.

Then they ask what the title is, and I tell them How to Get Run Over by a Truck – and as I look into their confused and interested faces, I usually follow up with, “because I was run over by an 18 wheel truck a few years ago,”  and then I watch as the puzzle pieces in their mind come together.

"Yes," I nod "that actually happened to me, and I know its super weird. It is even more confusing because I look totally normal." 

There is is usually an awkward pause or two, and then I get asked some of the best and most intimate questions that have ever ben posed to me. 

 I completely understand why the questions get so deep so quickly.  I mean, I was the one who wrote down the most horrific moments of her life into a book for public consumption.  I chose that, who wouldn’t want to ask questions?!

I want to welcome people into my experience, without awkwardness.  Which is made much simpler by the fact that just looking at me you would have no idea that this happened to me.  I look like every other person you'd see on the subway, but with an uncharacteristic smile for a New Yorker, a very slight limp and I have a tendency to dance to myself when the song coming through my headphones is particularly awesome. It is a shock to everyone who meets me that this could have happened – I seem so normal. It feels like I could be you, because in truth, I am you. 

We all have these horrible heartbreaking moments, that can run right up to moment where we are laughing until we cry.  Some days we meet people who strip us of our humanity, and in the next ten minutes we run into someone who makes us feel like the most important person in the whole world.  Our lives are a mishmash of all of these beautiful terrible moments, that can run us over like a MAC truck. 

I speak about what happened to me because there are people who need to hear it.  People  who are knee deep in the ugly part and they want to be reminded that at some point soon, they will laugh again.  And you might feel weird, or even a little bit bad about it – but you aren’t alone in that moment.  I’ve been there too.  And honestly, I’m happy to talk about it.  You can ask me any question that you want. 

I do, let's talk about it. 


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Keep Falling

Image
Two Monday’s ago, I woke up at 5 am and took the bag I had packed for a weekend in the Hamptons full of shoes and once worn dresses and re-zipped it.  I grabbed the nearest big blue Ikea bag and tipped my laundry basket into it, watching as the clothes cascaded out of it, like a cotton avalanche. I kissed my boyfriend good-bye as he sleepily slid toward my side of the bed.  I heaved this monstrosity of dirty clothes over my shoulder and lifted my rolling luggage out the front door to the 2011 Subaru Impreza that I share with my little brother. This little silver bullet of a car has almost 150,000 miles on it, smells like my little brothers dirty gym clothes, and in that moment opening up  the car door made me happier than I can even express. I needed a break from Brooklyn, and this sweet little four wheeled wonder was my ticket out. I didn’t worry about the wonky back bumper, or that the check engine light has been on basically since we got it a few months ago.  I just saw the E ZPa
Read more

Summertime Scaries

Image
It's happening. You know it's happening. I know it's happening. And no ones happy about it. Summer is coming to a close. I don't know what your thoughts are, but I feel like this is super rude. Not only is it rude, but I also find it to be incredibly anxiety provoking.  Every August I beat myself up with this line of thinking: "Why didn't I go to the beach more? I haven't seen an outdoor movie! I didn't eat enough watermelon! Its official, the summer was absolutely WORTHLESS!" This thought process is totally adorable, and incredibly fun to be around. This mentality was born out of wanting to do absolutely everything. I was like the Ms. PACman of fun things - I could never stop, and I was totally insatiable! Living in New York City didn't do anything to calm that feeling, there was always so much going on, so much fun to be had, so many "once in a lifetime experiences" that I was afraid to miss! After my accident that feeling we
Read more

Putting the Pretty into Power Walking

Image
Running was my response to every single emotion that I had.  If I was stressed out: run until all of those knots you've tied up in yourself have loosened.  If I was sad: run until the tears mingle with the sweat running down your face and you can't tell the difference between the two. If I was in a good mood: put on your favorite album and run your smiling face up and down every street in your neighborhood. Running made every bad feeling dissipate, and amplified  every good feeling. It was a fast forward button I could push to immediately feel confident and strong.  Even though I was sweaty and exhausted, I never felt more beautiful than I did when I was running.  Felt is the operative word here, kids. Felt. While I was running I used to see walkers and think to myself, "You guys! You're so close! Just a little more leg work and you could be running! Running is THE BEST!"  I could never understand why they wouldn't push themselves harder, try a little more
Read more