Knock it Off Marvel!

So off to a beautiful wedding at the beach.  A nice weekend get away from the daily grind, spending my hours getting my glow on and refraining from focusing my eyes (or mind) on anything in particular.  BUT, I first had to face the dreaded forced social situation otherwise known as THE RECEPTION.

Despite the rumors the beloved Fran Fine might spread, I am a socially awkward nightmare.  To me, a wedding reception is basically like being stuck in an elevator with about 10 psoriasis infected people.  And while everyone else is calmly throwing back shots of Yager and gracefully moving from crowd to crowd, I'm drinking my way into a multiple personality.

And so Evil Ms. Marvel elbows her way out of the recesses of my mind.  She makes her subtle entry by blurting comments out of context.  For example, while sitting in the back seat with a wedding gift bag that shed glitter everywhere.  Evil Ms. Marvel makes an attempt at humor, "It looks like Tinkerbell died back here."  The passenger gasps, "WHO'S DEAD???  WHAT HAPPENED IN THE BACK SEAT???"

Now I am forced to explain that I'm talking about Tinkerbell as in the animated pixie.  And yes I am a grown woman without children that regularly references animated characters.  So I force myself into silence and play with a really cool twisty tie I find in the back seat.

In addition to making strange comments, Ms. Marvel proves to be somewhat of a bitch.  She has no problem "Shunning" friendly strangers by shutting the conversation down right where it begins.  

Ex.

Nice Not Interested in Me Sexually Guy:  Oh yeah I think we've met before!

Me:  No we haven't. 

Why can’t she just calm down and be nice??   Would it kill her to fake a smile??  Why does she have a default face of disgust???                                                                                                   

Me saying, "So nice to meet you!"

And why couldn’t she have said something more clever like, “It looks like Tinkerbell was cremated in your back seat”??  So I’m turning over a new leaf.  I'm going to grab Evil Ms. Marvel by the hair, slap some masking tape over her mouth and I’m going to be nicer, politer, and funnier.  And one day I (and I alone) will twirl into a packed room and engage everyone I meet with friendly chatter without the desire to fake an IBS attack.