Wednesday, March 18, 2009


TIM: You look.....interesting.

ME: I know, right?

TIM: What is that? What's that dialect? Why are you responding to me with a question?

ME: I know, right? *cough* What?

TIM: I just mentioned that you look "interesting". Obviously you're thinking of something and that means I show up. But then you turned into Jessica Simpson or something...

ME: Oh, yea. They've been showing commercials for that movie she did with Dane Cook and it stuck in my brain....

TIM: Shake it off. That's not good for anyone. And don't even think about a tank top with high-waisted jeans. You might be able to get away with the jeans but that belt, puhleese, edit edit edit.

ME: No Tim, this isn't a fashion crisis.

TIM: Deborah, you're always in a fashion crisis, you just don't want to face it. I'm a walking intervention practicing restraint. I'm earning all kinds of patience awards being with you! I am a veritable Mother Theresa of the fashion-impoverished when I walk through your closet.

ME: Why Tim? Why does it devolve to this when you and I start a conversation? I have much bigger issues.

TIM: Do you Deborah? Do you really?

ME: Wow.

TIM: Fine. We will once again turn away from the BIG PROBLEM and deal with your crisis du jour. Here. Let me get comfy and put on my interested countenance. There. Spill.

ME: Gee, I'm all warm and fuzzy now Tim.

TIM: Those are your legs Deborah. Shave. Just tell me your "issue".

ME: I don't feel the need to "act up" anymore.

TIM: uh huh....

ME: That's it.

TIM: Really. Define "act up".

ME: Well, if I'm in a crowd of people, well gosh, first off, I typically now avoid crowds of people. Isn't that weird? But unless I'm with people I know pretty well, intimately even, I just don't carry on like I used to. Is that a bad thing?

TIM: By "carry on" do you mean, like, put a lamp shade on your head? That type of thing?

ME: Well no! I've never done that?

TIM: Really? Should I ask around? Because who admits to that?

ME: *gulp*

TIM: Yea.

ME: That would be terrible! But no, I don't think I was ever THAT weird. Let's just move forward. I think that I just wish to BE entertained as opposed to BEING the entertainer. Does that make more sense? I mean, I enjoy being a part of a good, lively conversation and I love to laugh, and I love surrounding myself with funny, witty people, but I guess that's the thing. I love being SURROUNDED by them. It feels like I'm passing the torch, so to speak. I'm kind of done with the entertaining part.

TIM: And you think people are going to pick up on this? That there's going to be some kind of mass mourning?

ME: Well, no, not exactly. Especially not when you put it like that.

TIM: What about this...what if no one notices?

ME: ?

TIM: See all this pressure you're creating for yourself? What if it's all for naught? What if everyone has always been having a good time and you weren't responsible for any of it? What then? What if you were never ever expected to be the one to "carry the burden" of every one's good mood, hearty laugh, or "best night ever"? What if that piece was just your own personal fiction? You don't even read fiction that much...what would you compose it for your own life?

ME: I...I...I...

TIM: Well said. Let's try this. Go home, enjoy your family, and relax. Here's an interesting thought; when you're not in Ohio, they're still having fun. Laughter continues, giggles still erupt, and good times are had. You are NOT expected to carry on.

ME: I suppose not. That's a lot of unnecessary pressure to put myself under isn't it?

TIM: I know, right?

ME: Stop it.

TIM: Go home. Carry on, only don't.