>As much of a risk taker as I might seem at times, I always end up thinking, “How do I get myself into these things?” I seem to accidentally seek out ways to humiliate myself over and over With boldness comes embarrassment, apparently. At least it makes me laugh at myself. Take my latest embarrassing foray. Sometime in the early part of November or maybe September, I saw a tweet by Sacramento Magazine asking people to nominate singles in Sacramento for their February issue.
Some bizarre combination of frustration and assertiveness compelled me to fill out the questionnaire for myself. Yes, I am such an egomaniac that I nominated myself. No one else, save my sister, would have done it anyway. Regardless, my answers were silly, “I’m the most single person in all of Sacramento save a few nuns and a priest.” “I haven’t celebrated Valentine’s Day as an adult.” “I have never been kissed at midnight on New Year’s Eve.” Dumb, but true, reasons why I should be nominated.
Like most of my writing, once it’s out into the world through my fingers a la keyboard, I forget about it. One day in early December, I got an email from Sacramento Magazine saying that I had been accepted into their online version of the Single in Sacramento segment. Alliteration aside, I started laughing, filled in yet another silly questionnaire about myself and thought no more about it…until the day I had to get my picture taken.
Now it’s mid-December and I am sicker than a dog. In the haze of my cold symptoms, I tried on 5 different outfits and started freaking out. “Shit! Why didn’t I get more help from my friends and family about what to wear?!? Why was I so cavalier about this photo shoot?”
Time was ticking by, so I just throw on something red. I figured it would be close enough to Valentine’s Day not to look too weird. Grabbing a handful of tissues, I bolted out the door before I could change my mind for a 6th time.
As I was climbing up the stairs to the photo shoot, my panic returned. “What the hell am I doing?” I saw a guy who was way cooler than me, scarf casually twisted about his neck, sitting in the lobby. “Shit. I look like a bumpkin who just fell off the turnip truck.”
Feeling like death warmed over, I started thinking about Derek Zoolander. I totally needed his guidance because I felt like I was on crazy pills. Blue Steel, Le Tigre? What was I going to do?
It was my turn and the guys at Sacramento Magazine couldn’t have been nicer. I’m sure my anxiety was palpable. I positioned myself on the chair just like they told me, took one photo and my nose started to run. Classy. By this time, the lobby was starting to fill up with other singles. Yikes! Three photos and I was out of there.
So, here we are today. The results of my brashness are now out. Feel free to take a gander at the Web Exclusive: Single in Sacramento. I’m the 36 year old blonde wearing red and black.