Thursday, April 16, 2009

Don't tell me you've never done anything stupid

The other day, Pooba posted a video entry about people who portray perfect lives on their blogs. Prefect house, perfect husband, perfect kids, perfect friends,the quintessential perfect life. While I know those people must exist, I couldn’t help but laugh at my inability to relate to it. It was like she was speaking a foreign language and I was having difficulty comprehending the mere concept. I’m sorry, could you please speak slower and enunciate; I am unfamiliar with this pseudo-perfectionism of which you speak.

Let’s be real here. A small percentage of my readers are people that I know in real life. There isn’t enough money in my bank account to bribe them to conspire with any attempt to convert my real life into some idealistic one. As for the remainder of you … if you believe that I try to depict any degree of perfectionism, I will be bold enough to suggest that you may need to take a remedial reading course of some sort. This phenomenon of ego blogging has been taking up valuable brain real estate over the past few days as I’ve pondered the absurdity of it. Accordingly, it was also on my mind as I prepared to share what happened to me yesterday.

On my way to work, I hurriedly grabbed my laptop and added it to the plethora of things teetering in my arms. My laptop had been residing on my kitchen counter this week, along with many other various non-kitchen related items. On a positive note, at least it was easily accessible and on my way to the door, right? Can you handle the perfectness here? I bet all Stepford women keep their laptops, toddler shoes, and week-old Easter candy on the kitchen counter, right? While I was scooping up my laptop, I reached out to grab the power cord as well. While I love my new laptop, the duration of the battery life is apparently in direct competition with the diminutive attention span of my three year old.

Upon arriving to my morning meeting, I settled in and opened my laptop. I politely requested outlet access from a colleague seated next to me. I then proceeded to to extract the CORD TO MY ELECTRIC GRIDDLE. If it weren’t for the Big Ben sized heat control dial, I may have been able to conceal the evidence. Move along people, nothing to see here. I contemplated mentioning that my plan was to whip out my griddle and prepare some banana pancakes for the meeting. Considering my sarcastic appointment as goddess of the kitchen, I believe that may have increased the comedic value of the whole situation.

I thought it was appropriate that to point out that other than the obvious, I am the absolute poster child of perfection.

12 comments:

Rachel Cotterill said...

I'm in awe of your evident perfection. Clearly you're almost as perfect as me ;)

And WHY would anyone pretend to be someone else on blogs??? Sounds like a massive waste of time. And where would you get the photos...?

Jeanne said...

Sarcasm? I'm laughing WITH you, not AT you (to which I always want to respond, "but I'm not laughing.") Anyway, I would love to have been in that room when all your VP cohorts noticed the temperature control for your PC.

Casey & Andrea said...

Oh my gosh, you have made my day. I am laughing just thinking about it. I'm imaging the whole thing in my head, I love it. :)

Grand Pooba said...

Yes my dear, yes you are! OH man, I can totally see myself doing this! And of course you pull out the cord in front of all your co-workers. LOL!

I love you!

Nichole Frank Photography said...

It could be worse Lynds - you could have grabbed your Electric Griddle instead of your laptop. :)

Wendy said...

My 3 year old has cut (yes cut with scissors) the power cord to my laptop TWICE!

You got to love three year olds!

Claire said...

Sounds your life is just about as perfect as mine :) Lately mine totally awesome life is full of a barfing child, sick dog, husband always gone, and chicken wire in my backyard. I really don't blame everyone for being so envious of me.

PS. I may have judged you if you had actually brought the whole griddle with you, but since it was just the cord, you're good.

Call Me Cate said...

I love you for your lack of perfectionism. I can't relate to those without faults.

And yeah, I laughed (with you, of course) about your griddle cord. Made of awesome.

Tiffany said...

Oh that is so something that happens to me!

CarrieAnn said...

What?!? You're not perfect? Says who?!

Jodi said...

This would totally happen to me, and I'm laughing that it did happen to you! I can totally visualize it!

Teresa said...

Who would want to read about a perfect life? Reality is so much more entertaining! I was LOL at the griddle cord! That sounds like something I'd do- and of course I would have been feeling tremendously efficient and organized prior to pulling out the wrong cord.