Awkward Situations

To explain why on earth it's taken me so long to update, here is a short, dramatized experience from the life of Lindsay Oldroyd occurring a few weeks ago. (Sorry if the first person narration throws you off...)


The gymnasium was echoing with hundreds of teenage voices as they talked about their latest crushes, pet peeves, copied opinions, and who was dating/cheating on whom. The teachers, as usual, spread out towards the back forming an ineffective line, yet firmly in their places as "Keepers of the Peace" overlooking the students. I, however, was friends with all the teachers who happened to be pregnant and therefore got a coveted seat next to some parents.
A middle-aged blonde woman with the typical puffy, Utah-mom haricut, khakis, SAS shoes and unfitted button-up turned to me and asked, "Are you Mrs. Oldroyd?"
"I am," I replied congenially, not recognizing her face.
"Oh, how nice. My son is in your class." 
At this I realized that he must be in my English classes and that therefore, I probably don't really know her son well. I had just started teaching the English classes and was still struggling to match names on paper with faces and personalities. 
"How wonderful!" I replied, slightly faking it. "How is he liking class? Mrs. Phillips is such a great teacher he must have loved having her." (Mrs. Phillips was on maternity leave, which is why I was taking over her classes.)
The chit chat continued for a few moments before she slightly changed the topic and off handedly mentioned, "You know, when I found out you were teaching my son, I wanted to find out more about you and googled you." My eyebrows raised slightly and chin cocked sideways-up in surprise at this admission, but she continued her steady course. "I even found your blog and read it. I found it because of your entry on LPA, but I completely agree about your review of that one book... the historical one... what was it's name again?"
"Cotillion?" (Same facial expression as though slightly frozen, although a small smile was pulling at the side of my lips.)
"Oh yes, yes," she forged, "that one. Georgette Heyer..... talk, talk, talk.... Austen quote on your page is interesting, why... talk,talk,talk... do you really think that....talk, talk, talk..." On she went about things I'd forgotten I'd even thought, let alone written down. Mercifully the assembly started as Mrs. Smyka announced the theme and invited her students on stage.
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As I left the gymnasium an hour later I had the odd sense that perhaps I wasn't quite the unknown I had imagined myself. And, more importantly, perhaps all my concern over privacy when it came to separation of my work life and normal life had not only been thwarted, but was simply impossible. 


Okay, granted, not literarily the best short story I've ever come up with, but you get the point. It was so bizarre that people from that section of my life read my blog (something firmly entrenched in my personal life). Why would anyone else pick it up to read? I'm really not that interesting of a writer; one with only decent grammar and not particularly an entertaining voice. Point being, it kind of weirded me out a little bit. Having someone unknown read it is fine and quite fun to think about. Actually meeting someone who reads it and wanted to discuss things about my opinions and personality whom I'd never met before threw me off a little. 


Anyway, last night I was chatting with Janna (ever the one bringing the best and most logical advice) and she pointed out I was being somewhat silly. Also, just talking to her about it made me realize how much I actually have missed blogging. So, whether I know you or not, whether I'll ever know you or not, I promise to be better at keeping this updated and I'll try my best to be more entertaining and much less awkward if I ever happen to meet you on the street. :)