I’ve already talked about my actual age and how I’ve enjoyed the privilege of annoyingly lecturing younger twentysomethings about life. Today, I will tell you how I am, and have always been, an old person at heart.
- Much like Schmidt in the picture above, I have the ‘get off my lawn’ attitude figured out. It’s not that I will overtly complain about people being noisy, or children being too rowdy at the pool (a situation I literally JUST experienced about half an hour ago). But I will make little throat noises to signify my discontent. I might even frown at your kids, if I feel like they shouldn’t splash everyone like that. I have learned The Frown from my dad -Happy Father’s Day Papa!-, who always makes little kids go from out of control to perfectly quiet, with just one look. Once, I was in a department store with my dad and a little kid was terrorizing everybody by sliding under every changing room curtain to creep on people. His mom wasn’t saying anything to him and he just kept going from curtain to curtain, shamelessly sneaking a peek at everyone while they were trying on clothes. My dad was in a changing room himself, to try on a shirt. I saw the kid venture under my dad’s curtain, and I KNEW my dad was gonna do The Frown. Lo and behold, two seconds later, the kid comes back out crying to his mom ‘the man was so mean, he made a scary face!’, and he stopped terrorizing the whole village. I aspire to be more like my dad.
- I LOVE telenovelas and anything resembling a soap opera. (I know, I know, you already knew that about me. But I bet you didn’t know I liked Devious Maids, huh?) I am easily amused and I completely relate to grandmas who watch their ‘stories’ while ironing their husbands’ shirts. Except that I hate ironing.
- Here’s something you don’t know about me: I am amazing at crafts. I feel completely at home in a Michael’s or a Jo Ann Fabrics store, and I’m great at sewing. Seriously, I can repair clothes, decently hem pants, and I recently made an iPhone belt for my boyfriend for when he goes on a bicycle ride. My grandmother was a seamstress when she was younger and taught me how to sew when I was a kid, and she was a real hardass about it. If I didn’t stitch a straight line, I had to start over until it was pretty. (All jokes aside, she is not a monster, she’s an adorable old lady who is probably half my height) My other grandmother taught me different kinds of crafts, the ones that involve glitter and making paintings with cool colored sand. So it happens, she was also a hardass, but with coloring. She would make me start over if I colored outside the lines. (That being said, she is ALSO adorable and totally not a monster. It should also be noted that I used past tense for both of them to signify that they WERE hardasses because they are no longer hardasses, but they are both still alive, thankfully.) My favorite craft of all is knitting. I’m obsessed with knitting, and I’d be surprised if I didn’t dedicate a future post to knitting only. It started out because I thought it was cool to make something from scratch, and my mom taught me how to knit and purl (the basics). Then I taught myself more complicated stuff, and my boyfriend’s mom (Jane Fonda), who is a knitter herself, started sharing her patterns with me and giving me little kits to knit cute animals. I am now the weird person who knits a ton of cute animals. But I also knit blankets, hats, scarves, you name it. I am a knitting bandit.
I made this. And this is my hand.
- Alright, this one is a little embarrassing. All my -young- life, I have made fun of my grandpa Francis because whatever he is watching on TV, wherever he is sitting (couch, uncomfortable chair, bed of nails, you name it), he WILL fall asleep after 2 minutes of watching. This condition of his has contributed to dozens of pranks, thoughtfully conceived by my cousins and myself (Francis once woke up to his fingernails painted red, for instance). Well, now, I am Francis. I don’t know what it is about my life that has changed, but I now fall asleep in front of the TV, even when I’m watching something incredibly suspenseful. Last year, I insisted on watching the How to get away with murder Season 1 finale with my boyfriend and one of our best friends. I made sure everyone waited to watch it together, and I got super excited about it. And then, right before the ‘who killed Lila’ revelation, I fell asleep. Not for long, probably for a minute, because I was woken up by the guys’ gasps, but I couldn’t gasp: I had no idea who had killed Lila. And boom, the season was over, and boom, I had no idea what happened. I didn’t want to be made fun of, so I sneakily googled it so I could be able to talk about it with them, but it was a bummer. And yesterday, as my boyfriend and I were binge-watching the 4th season of Orange is the New Black, I fell asleep and missed the mouse thing (see how I’m coyly calling it *the mouse thing* to avoid spoilers?). When a character re-told the story in the next episode, I gasped and was completely outraged, because I had never heard or seen the mouse story before: I was asleep. My boyfriend looked at me like I was a weirdo, because he already knew about the mouse thing. But that’s my life now. I’m Francis, and I fall asleep.
- Just like an old lady, I ask people to repeat very frequently -is it because my hearing isn’t very good? Is it because I don’t understand? Is it because I am absent-minded and a bad listener? No one knows, no one will ever know. But I also repeat myself a lot. I am a broken record about many things, and mainly, I just tell the same stories over and over again. If you have known me for over a couple of months, you probably have heard my story about meeting Aziz Ansari on a plane.
(Was this all a ploy so I could sneakily tell you that I once met Aziz Ansari on a plane? No one will ever know.)