Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Pa pa pa Poker Face
I have a lot of things. Like, a way with words. Or, a lack of gracefulness. And, overabundance of affection for my dog. But the things that I do not have, well, I just don't have them in any sense of the word. High atop this list is my lack of ability to hide my emotions. It's like I'm Jim Carrey. My mouth and body can attempt to fool you, but my face? My face never lies. It always tells the truth, even when the truth hurts.
My face is always giving me away. I can't stop smiling. Or, my face turns red. Or, I roll my eyes. Sometimes, I just exude dirty looks. I just can't help it--I think they just come right out of my pores. My face has a mind of its own. It's as though the muscles in my face move in time with some foreign body that is not, well, my body. I think it, I sometimes say it, but I always tell you with my face. It's my thing.
Most people fail to understand this important fact about me. They think I'm being bitchy or judgemental. They don't understand that it's completely out of my control. My husband is no exception. He's usually the object of my uncontrollable facial expressions. Like, when he makes suggestions. My face lights up like a Christmas tree that was decorated with discontent, disapproval and disgust. Even the simplest of suggestions are met with my very opinionated face, usually before I have a chance to find something nice to say. It's as though my face grasps the opportunity to speak before my tongue even understands what has happened.
Sometimes, it's like a horror movie. My husband talks and says something and then pauses and says, "What was that look for?" or "You could at least listen to what I have to say first." or even, "If you don't like it, then why don't you just say so?"
I'm left grasping at my face, feeling all around to understand what it has just done to me. Typically, it's betrayed my trust. I was still processing the information! I had not yet had time to draw upon a really judgemental conclusion and my face already gave my hand away. It was a royal flush. And I stink at bluffing.
So, yesterday I had this epiphany that had my face in quite the tailspin. We have been invited to a Halloween party and I have spent great lengths of time trying to decide on the most hilarious, outlandish costume my face and I can conjure. We've been trying hard with a furrowed brow. I thought I wanted to be America's Sweetheart, Snooki from the Jersey Shore, but that was until yesterday. Until I realized that I could be something far superior: Lady Gaga in a meat dress.
You remember how excited I was about the dress made of meat, right? If you don't remember, I'll just tell you: it was exciting. My face and I realized, though, that we couldn't wear a dress made of real meat. It just wasn't a realistic goal. So, we came up with a far superior idea. It was equally exciting. My face was filled with excitement and I began dancing around, singing well-known chart topper, "Poker Face."
But, ironically, you CAN read my poker face. And it's filled with excitement about a faux meat dress.