Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Chickens are not altogether self confident, as a rule

Hi World.

Hold on to your hats. I'm about to reveal things. This is not normally something I do. I'm a chicken, remember? However, I've been praying to the Portuguese neighbor's Aquamarine Virgin on a Half Shell and leaving her extra things along with her pina coladas, like pineapples and Don Ho CDs, and even recently my favorite Jack Johnson CD because it goes along with my whole Virgin Mary in the tropics theme, and still I have nothing to report but angry neighbors. Bupkis.

My life is not exactly a Paris Hilton memoir. There are no Golden Globe award parties, no E Television worthy anecdotes, no crazy, drunken party stories. Perez Hilton and I do not exchange in witty, insulting repartee. This means that when looking for blog material I have to rely on current events, the rare adventure, memories, and whatever the hell I can make up.

Or I could tell you something about myself, aye?

I am, I think, fairly self-deprecating. In fact, the idea for this blog is based on my experience this evening of getting lost on the way to a networking event because I could not read the small font directions in my car at 50 MPH without my glasses, which I did not have, and missed the exit and ended up in South Providence, finally finding my way home after an hour and a half of driving around refusing to admit I was lost and wondering whether sharing this experience with my co-workers, which I would usually do, is a good idea. Should I just say I didn't go because I had a very important date? A last minute appointment? A red-phone call from Obama?

I have moments of conceit and self-delusion, sure, but on the whole, I make fun of myself. I am honest about my failures and downplay my accomplishments. I submit as piece of evidence number one my recent "Stupid Things I Have Done" post. I thought it was funny-but I wonder-did it make people uncomfortable? Is this wise?

I had a recent epiphany that making fun of myself might come off to others as, at best, a lack of self confidence, and at worst, a total admission that I am a moron. Actually, this is not a recent epiphany. It's an old epiphany brought about when a therapist I saw briefly stopped laughing at my one liners. This was very difficult for me. Here I was paying this woman quite handsomely to be the one-person audience to my very special stand-up routine (or lie down routine, more like) and she couldn't even laugh? It was very quiet in there with her not laughing and me not revealing. And when it gets too quiet, all the voices in my head become a lot more audible. And this makes me very uncomfortable which I was totally not about to keep paying for. Finally, the therapist and I, well mostly I, decided I was much better adjusted and parted ways. I took my voices out for coffee and we decided that therapy is fine for some people who really need it, but our voices are harmless.

Huh? Where am I? Did I wander off again?

See? See what I do? I'm making fun of myself again. And I, World, might need to do something about that soon. So I am watching and I am taking notes.

I notice that people who are supremely confident, with or without good reason, seem to not laugh at themselves overly much. Everything they do is a miracle. Every conversation they have results in results. When the person is very competent they have every reason to be self confident. The people who fascinate me, though, are the people who are incompetent, but are so self confident no one ever catches on. I mean, they may not know their ass from their elbow but just saying they know their ass, and all of their ass's best friends, not to mention the possibilities indicated by their ass's association with their elbow's connections, seems to inspire confidence in other people.

Now,I do pretty much know my ass from my elbow,thank you very much, but if someone asked, "Hey Chicken, do you know your Ass or Elbow?" I would most likely respond with "Well, I think I might have met them once or twice but we don't have a close relationship. I think my foot might know my ass, though. I'll ask my mouth. Cause my foot and my mouth are also tight." And then I would probably start laughing. That is what I do. And meanwhile, the person who doesn't know their ass from their elbow but was smart enough not to reveal that, is sent over to give me some coaching on discerning one's ass from one's elbow.

I am not sure that I can change my basic nature, but since I've never heard of anyone being voted Class Clown AND Most Likely to Succeed, maybe it is time to put a lid on the one liners and start to take myself more seriously. What do you think? Comments? Suggestions?

And that, my friends, ends my post. Next time we'll talk about narcissistic bloggers. It's always about them, isn't it?

BTW, while I was driving around tonight I made a couple of really great connections that will certainly deliver huge results. I gave a dollar to a homeless guy on Prairie Avenue and I know it is going to pay off. Big. Soon.

Take care, World,
Chicken

P.S. I claim the right not to be serious here. Here I get to be as silly as I want. If you are maybe hoping for a political debate next visit, you'd better go check out Rush Limbaugh's site. Talk about your basic blowhard:-) Also, I just remembered it is GG's Birthday. Happy Birthday Green Girl! Hugs and Kisses.