Hi! You look pretty today (gender neutral since guys can be pretty, too). But you do, you look pretty. Have you been working out? You guys look really good. NO! I am NOT hitting on you. Geez, all I said was "you look pretty." Please come back, would you like me to tell you that you look unfit? That would be mean but I'll do it.
This is not going the way I expected.
Which is what I thought about presenting at a conference would be like...like an uncomfortable date where they sit too close and ask you really personal questions while questioning your basic existence.
I wasn't too far off. I wanted to faint and would have legit fainted if it meant I could stop talking but I would have had to keep going after I picked myself up off the floor and, awkward. Right?
Well, when you sign up for stuff you're scared of and don't want to do, you say "well, at least I have a ton of time and the day will never come when I actually have to follow through." And then it's the night before you are set to present and you're all like "Wait, what?" This was never supposed to happen and I did it in my head so that counts. That counts for something, right? I mean, I presented and then I moved into a moving acoustic rendition of "Gold Dust Woman" and everyone wiped tears from their eyes and clapped goddammit. I already did it.
Reality is stupid and apparently you have to follow through or you are seen as a "liar".
Anyway, I presented on Katherine Anne Porter and my topic was "Love, Desire & Isolation in Latherine Anne Porter's Short Stories". I talked about emotional rape and even defended by thesis from audience questions. I saw sweating and wanted to faint, but I did it and not just in my head.
You guys, my moving rendition of "Gold Dust Woman" was MOVING and beautiful. Wish you were there (in my head).
|Here's a picture of me pouting as a little kid|