Impressionism

What kind of first impression do we make? What kind of first impression do I make?

Can any of us know this realistically? There are ‘quizzes’ riddling the intertoobs all of which, it seems, are strange, limited and geared toward high school and college age girls. So, Pajama Party by way of the 16 Candles crowd?

This quiz is clearly meant for teenage girlie sleep overs -- the sort where all the chiclets are slim and pretty. They're from upper middle class, two parent, happy, peaceful homes. Make up and nail polish are experimented with during the evening. There are cupcake indulgences. Fellow students who are deemed different/odd are dissed and there’s much fretting about weight and boys.
From the quiz:

You made a joke at a party and nobody laughed you: 

 •  Get over it! Everyone’s a critic
 •  Explain the joke, I mean, it’s really funny.
 •  Pout and say “well, I thought it was funny.”

What? I don’t get to choose ‘laughs so hard at own joke that I snort sauvignon blanc out my nose which only sends me into uncontrollable giggle fits and then I have to go lie down because that last snorting guffaw triggered a nasty headache.’

If someone showed you a recent photo of yourself, you'd think: 

 •  "I need to lose a few pounds."
 •  "Ugh, I look horrible."
 •  "Hey, I don't look half bad."

Where’s “D. all of the above, it depends on the day?”

From a different, slightly less pink, foofy frilled quiz:

What does someone you've met once briefly typically to remember about you?
 •  Nothing.
 •  Your face, and your name if you're lucky.
 •  Your name, and maybe even a few details about you

How the hell would I know? It’s not like I do surveys after each meeting. What? I’m supposed to have clipboard and spare pencils at the ready to ask probing and utterly germane questions such as:

 •  Did meeting Donna leave you feeling all warm, fuzzy and blithe of spirit or did you feel all oogie, queasy and glad you escaped afterward. Why? Please use the back of this form if you need more room for your answer.
 •  Were Donna’s fingernails nicely manicured?
 •  Did those lavender moccasins make Donna’s ass look big?

Hey, it’s my damned survey, I’ll ask what I want.

How often do your friends complain about your manners in public?
 •  Only very rarely
 •  Never
 •  Quite a bit

What is this thing you call 'manners?'

Which of the following celebs is your role model?
 •  Kristen Stewart
 •  Lily Allen
 •  Selena Gomez

Who are these people and what makes them role model worthy? Are we now all “pass the Rougemarie nail varnish and my Cosmo plz!”

Christ on cuticle, a better list from which to choose, for me anyway, would be:

•  Wonder Woman
•  Frida Kahlo
•  Molly Ivins
•  Gloria Steinem

 but, ya know, maybe that’s just me.

If you were reincarnated as an animal, which one would best match your personality?

 •  Panther
 •  Dog
 •  Peacock

What, no cats (of the small, obscenely pampered, house variety of course)? What about Pterodactyls? OK, maybe not so cute and fuzzy but, hell, check the wing span! I mean, those babies soared and could announce their presence with authority.

And, since this is a quiz on a girlie type page -- did the author or the readers know that it’s the male, NOT female, peacock who’s all Priscilla, Queen of the Desert-ed out?

SNAP. Back to the point of this post. I know it’s here somewhere.

Yesterday The Amazing Bob and I drove down to Mattapoisett to meet The Green Miles’ fiancé’s parents -- the lovely and charming Ron and Brenda. Now, it was 92º, Horace’s AC is dodgy, it’s a 90 minute drive (which is 85 minutes too long for me) and I’ve never been to Mattapoisett before so would assuredly get us lost. PLUS, meeting new people is always stressful for me. I wanted to make a good impression. I wanted them to like me.

They’d of course fall in love with TAB -- I mean, duh, who wouldn’t? They’re sentient beings aren’t they?

Me? Eh.  We went to dinner at a lovely restaurant on the water and somehow I ended up in foulmouthed overdrive. F-bombs galore. Yes, I seem to use the lexeme as a verbal comma. Sigh.

The topic of music came around and, boyhowdy, I was in heaven. Turns out, Ron, Brenda and I like a lot of the same bands. This was awesome but I, perhaps, went a disc too far when I began rhapsodizing, in detail, over every cut from Jeff Beck’s album Truth. Honestly though, is Shapes of Things the best goddamned song on the planet and is Jeff Beck a god or what?!

Em...so yeah, you can see how I might wonder about that first impression I might be rocking. Pottymouthed, music pushing, deaf broad.