Pull on your big girl panties
When I was in Gunnison, Colorado earlier this year getting my Wilderness First Responder recertification, my favorite cafe there had this bumper sticker on the wall: PUT ON YOUR BIG GIRL PANTIES AND DEAL WITH IT. And I thought, “I need that! That’s so totally me! I’m that girl!”
Poseur.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got my Tough Girl creds–black belt, trial attorney, able to stablize a fractured femur and handle a sucking chest wound (love saying that, never want to see it) out in the wild, but yesterday I did something that made me more nervous than I should probably admit:
I had to take my car through the drive-through car wash. All by myself. For the first time ever. Oo, dangerous.
But that happens a lot–at least to me. I’m going about my business, doing what I’m accustomed to and am therefore semi-competent at, and then I have to handle some stupid, easy, mundane task that shouldn’t be hard or spooky at all, but definitely is.
A friend of mine has a similar complex: the fear of Firsts. Once she’s done something at least once, no problem forevermore. But that first time at anything is enough to keep her awake at night dreading it.
So there I was, concentrating really hard to make sure I got the tires lined up just right and that I obeyed all the instructions on the sign (”Car in neutral! Foot off brake!”), and I must have checked my foot half a dozen times to confirm it hadn’t sneaked back onto the brake just to get me into trouble. And once we were on the conveyer belt, Bear and I, it was all really cool and very much like I remembered it as a little girl. But then the big girl in me had to go back on the job, because the ride was over and I had to “Apply brake hard! Don’t put in drive until light turns green!” Aaacckk! Too much pressure!
But as you can see, I survived.
It reminded me of one of my favorite movies of all time, Baby Boom. Diane Keaton is this total kickass career woman who inherits a baby and ends up chucking her fabulous Manhatten life to go live on a farm in Vermont.
And she has no clue what she’s doing.
And Sam Shepard is so hot, and kisses her when we’re all least expecting it. Ahhhh. I’m sorry, where was I?
I know that everyone out there except Patrick the Uber-Confident must have moments like this, where you know in your brain you’re a grown, competent human being, but inside your heart you’re panicking because you have to do something for the first time that you know other people have been doing quite easily all along, so you can’t really confess what a doofus you’re feeling like. My list would be long. I’m a creature of habit for good reasons.
So go ahead–confess. What stupid easy little thing has ever sent you into a panic?
Technorati Tags: Scary Drive-Through Car Wash Experiences
June 20th, 2007 at 7:38 am
I can’t believe I’m about to admit this in public…
When I first got my driver’s license, I went three or four months where I would ONLY go to gas stations that had full service because I had never pumped gas before and I didn’t want to screw it up.
June 20th, 2007 at 7:48 am
I have social anxiety, so pretty much any social event makes my tummy hurt. Once I’m relaxed, I’m okay for the rest of the event. You think it would get easier with age, but it doesn’t.
June 20th, 2007 at 7:49 am
Oh, and where can I get that bumpersticker?
June 20th, 2007 at 7:51 am
Found it!
http://www.bumperactive.com/bumpersticker.jsp?id=3851
June 20th, 2007 at 8:09 am
Did you ever read “Feel the Fear and do it anyway”? It’s great for just this thing.
It’s funny how I get nervous about the really stupidest things. I mean really no-brainer things. But the whole knowing to face that fear and embrace it feeling makes me look at all situations in a new way.
June 20th, 2007 at 8:28 am
Oh, that’s easy. First day of middle school. Getting back to my third period class after break. Total meltdown.
That and my heart rate speeds up considerably if I have to leave a message on someone’s answering machine. I hate those.
And I’m with Heather - massive social anxiety. Anytime I’m headed into church on Sunday or Wednesday, I feel like I’ll pass out at any minute. Once I’m there (and safely in the company of friends), I’m fine.
I get nervous about doing anything I’ve never done, actually.
I might need to invest in that bumpersticker.
June 20th, 2007 at 9:18 am
Barry, don’t feel bad at all. I know plenty of people in full-on adulthood who still drive miles for that one self-service gas station. Hey, if a parent or a buddy doesn’t teach you how to pump, how are you supposed to know?
Miri and Heather, I’m so sorry to hear you have anxiety like that. You’re both obviously charming and friendly and witty, so you must know intellectually that everyone you meet will love you. Hope that’s not why either of you is avoiding the Potluck! Because if you’re safe with anyone, it’s with us.
PJ, I’ve heard that motto and I think it’s a great one. Are you saying that’s a book, too?
June 20th, 2007 at 10:58 am
I’m a grade-A scaredy cat. Leaving my house is leaving my comfort zone, pretty much.
June 20th, 2007 at 11:00 am
Walking into a room full of people I don’t know also fills me with dread and anxiety. Flower on Wall. That’s me. I hate parties where I know no one.
(If I know you, though, you probably wish I’d shut up) . . .
June 20th, 2007 at 11:21 am
I just got back from the airport and there was a woman there wearing a bright red T-Shirt with this on it! My OB/GYN also has a poster of it hanging in her office. It’s always been one of my favorites!
I’m afraid of the BBQ grill. About 20 years ago I worked on a case of a gas BBQ grill exploding and massively burning a 2 y/o and I’ve not gone near one since-just scared me. My kids are begging me to get one and I love BBQ anything. I mean millions of people use these everyday without a problem, right?I just can’t get over it.
June 20th, 2007 at 12:03 pm
I’m with you Jules. Flower on the Wall during parties. All I need is someone to break the ice, then I’m good. My friends in college would be shocked at this.
June 20th, 2007 at 1:16 pm
Katie, I happen to know this is a lie because I read your post yesterday about your white water rafting adventures. Nice try, though, Tough Girl.
Jules and Vivian, say it isn’t so! You’re so thoughtful and engaging on your blogs. Just close your eyes at parties and pretend the people are all reading you instead of listening.
Although I, too, have incredible party anxiety, so I don’t know what I’m talking about here.
Deborah, that sounds like a pretty reasonable fear, considering. And that’s what places like Mongolian Bbq are there for. And bbq potato chips.
June 20th, 2007 at 1:20 pm
Really, for me it’s going into just about any situation where I’m not prepared for the unknown. Yeah, I know that sounds really vague, but it usually comes about when I’m a middleman in some exchange, where I don’t think I’ll be able to answer any questions that come up, to handle any curveballs. If I’m speaking for myself, fine — no worries. But if not, I’ll obsessively catalog information to ensure I’m as prepared as I can be. Drives my wife nuts — a simple “Call so-and-so to handle such-and-such” becomes a day-long event.
June 20th, 2007 at 1:23 pm
Bill, I understand that. You hate to be responsible for messing up something for someone else. That makes me trust you to be my middleman.
And by the way, kudos to you and Barry for being men enough to comment on something with this post title.
June 20th, 2007 at 2:32 pm
Deciding which way to go at an intersection, because you’d think it would be a 50/50 chance, but no, I’m always wrong. The worst is when I’ve been somewhere several times before and I STILL can’t remember how to get there.
Also, spelling under pressure. And remembering details about people I’m supposed to know. Please, put me in that room with total strangers…at least they won’t look at me funny when I ask about the dog they don’t have.
My husband can’t deal with fast food drive-thrus. He claims they suck out his soul. I’ve watched him try to order, and it’s true.
Robin, try imagining Sam Shepard in the car wash with you…maybe that will help.
June 20th, 2007 at 2:38 pm
Oh, yeah, Sara, then I’d really be able to pay attention to the signs.
Your poor husband! Although (sorry) that is very funny.
June 20th, 2007 at 3:12 pm
I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but I just learned how to pump gas a couple months ago!
No one ever taught me. I grew up in a house where men did that stuff and the women cooked and cleaned. I had a hard enough time getting my license because of this.
When I got married, I made my husband pump my gas, until a couple of months ago, I really wanted to head out and needed gas, so I finally sucked it up and did it. It was pretty easy. I’ve done it several times since. I feel so dumb now;-)
June 20th, 2007 at 3:34 pm
Oh yeah! Story of my life. I had to laugh at the title because my daughter is wearing “big girl undies” now after all of the challenges of the Breakthrough in Potty-Training.
Here are some of my “Suck it up” moments:
1) Driving anywhere for the first time. Double that if it’s during the night.
2) The first time I ever was in NYC by myself, I emerged from the subway looking for Penn Station (I didn’t know it was the same as Madison Sq. Garden). I had been terrified of the city, and thought the skyscrapers were going to fall on me. They didn’t. I realized I actually liked NYC and moved there a number of years later, after I finished grad school.
3) In grad school, I worked for Interlibrary Loan. Even though I had to contact the people who had asked for items, it still felt a bit like cold-calling. I would rush through the calls, and one guy said, “Please do that again and speak SLOWLY and CLEARLY.” So I said, “Okay, POOPYPANTS, your STINKY book has arrived at the library.”
Just kidding.
I did encourage people to leave their email addresses as the primary means of contacting them. I loved it when Bede, my now-husband, would submit ILLs, because it meant I got to email him. Tee hee.
June 20th, 2007 at 3:47 pm
Kimmy, I just don’t think that’s anything to be ashamed of. How would you know how to do that unless someone showed you? But I’m glad you broke through it! Tiger!
Alkelda, you just made me spit my water with this: “Okay, POOPYPANTS, your STINKY book has arrived at the library.”
June 20th, 2007 at 4:26 pm
i used to be this very gung ho can do kinda gal. hang drywall, no problem; rewire the lamp, why not; replace a cast iron bathtub that outweighed me by 200 lbs, sure. now i’m such a lazy a**. a couple weeks ago i called a plumber to come and fix two bathroom sinks that had been without water pressure for a really long time because i kept forgetting to call the plumber. how stupid did i feel taking time off work AND paying a guy 100 bucks to remove and rinse the sand out of the the little screen things on the tap (you know, pipe wrench and five minutes–dumb and lazy).
June 20th, 2007 at 4:34 pm
Annette, laziness is a whole other issue. And I don’t think it’s lazy. You’re a grown up, you have some money–it’s your choice whether you’d rather spend your time or your bucks to get that done. Although I do get your point that it ended up being both. Oh, well.
June 20th, 2007 at 5:14 pm
i’m talkin’ 5 minutes here (okay 10 if you count rummaning in the garage for the wrench) vs. forgetting to call the plumber, calling the plumber to schedule, drive across town to meet plumber, hang around with plumber…what’s wrong with this picture!!!
off subject, i saw, for the second time, “man on fire” last night (that’s what i’m doin’ instead of posting my Tuesday reads, of which there are none cuz i’m too busy watching old movies and “scrubs”). anyhow, the next time anyone sees denzel washington would you please let him know that i love him and want very much to marry him. thank you
June 20th, 2007 at 5:21 pm
Okay, Bill thinks I won’t admit it, but I’m afraid of the ATM. I use credit cards, cash checks occasionally, and otherwise beg my husband for cash but I won’t go near that Money Machine of Doom.
And Alkelda, I hate driving new places too. I’ll do it, but it gets me all nervous.
June 20th, 2007 at 6:25 pm
Annette, as you well know, I put dibs on Denzel long ago. Just stay away if you know what’s good for you.
Mother Reader, I love it that this has become a truth or dare space for you and your man. Too much fun. Thanks for your confession. I’m sure you’re not alone in that one.
June 20th, 2007 at 6:45 pm
rb, i feel so bad for you–everyone knows denzel loves me.
June 20th, 2007 at 7:29 pm
And then you woke up. ‘Cause you’re dreamin’.
June 20th, 2007 at 9:11 pm
her so jealous…
June 20th, 2007 at 9:36 pm
Annette, it’s ok to admit you just wanted to see if the plumber was hot and test him for plumber crack.
And how come I’m the only one who thought of Shallow Hal after seeing the title of the post? I just hear the emphasis on big a little differently, I guess.
June 20th, 2007 at 10:53 pm
Now, Annette and Robin, I’m sure there’s enough Denzel for both of you!
June 22nd, 2007 at 1:54 pm
Robin, I know you’ll never play golf, but I had to laugh because you were out on the course with me today. Every time I was faced with a scary shot I didn’t like, I could hear you saying: “Sara, just pull on your big girl panties and DO IT.”
Amazingly, it worked. Apparently, big girl panties fit really well under a skirt.
June 24th, 2007 at 6:56 pm
one last observation directed to the “panties” part of this post–am i the last american woman standing that does not shave, wax or otherwise deny the right to exist of that fur protected part of the female anatomy otherwise known as the “pubis?” i ask this question because i’ve always been comfortable in some full-on drawers (lace trimed, hip-hugging, but none-the-less providing total protection from feminine wetness and comfortable to boot). so a couple weeks ago two friends, independently of each other and apropos of nothing, purported to “turn me on” to the very best, most wonderful, panties in the entire universe (one, in the realm of tmi, volunteered that she had started to wear underwear “again”, ugh, based upon the magical qualities of these panties). so i bit. went to dillards, $26 a pop. thank goodness i tried a pair on before i left the store. seriously, postage sized–why bother, and not, i repeat, not a breathable fabric. so i’m stickin’ to my real girl UNDERPANTS, not “panties”, and damn they feel good!
June 24th, 2007 at 7:15 pm
Alkelda, sorry, but you are so wrong. There’s gonna be a rumble.
Sara, ha! Glad it worked. You might need the bumper sticker. Or a t-shirt.
Annette, thank you for bringing that very informative, HIGHLY personal topic to the attention of the blog. Do you really want Denzel to know all that about you? Because I’m pretty sure he reads my blog almost every day.
June 24th, 2007 at 7:17 pm
p.s. i meant “postage stamp” size– not “ups delivering your dell computer with scanner and printer” size.
June 25th, 2007 at 7:07 am
Annette, if you are trying to breath through your underwear, I think you might be doing it wrong. I’d suggest trying yoga to help improve your breathing techniques.
June 25th, 2007 at 9:52 am
Robin: Perhaps there can be some sort of time-travel sharing. You could have Denzel-of-the-Present and Annette hangs out with Denzel-10-Minutes-Into-the-Future. Then, just do a switcheroo. I got the idea from the 2nd Austin Powers movie.
June 25th, 2007 at 9:54 am
Alkelda, what a peacemaker you are. I’m willing. Annette?
June 25th, 2007 at 10:29 am
it sounds creepy, threesome-ish. i’d rather just arm wrestle you for him.