Setting the Record Straight

I got to thinking today...which is usually not a good thing. The philosophical pondering of the day is this: What if people mistake my silliness for ignorance? I profess not to care what other people think - and for the most part, I don't. But since one of my pet peeves is people who are idiots, it's important to me that others realize that I'm not an idiot. I'm all for putting my crazy life out there for the amusement of others, as long as they understand that I'm just a smart person who happens to do really dumb things on occasion. Perhaps more frequently than the average person, but whatever. Life is never boring around me, that's for sure.

So here's the deal. I am "book smart" by society's standards. I scored a 27 on my ACTs - twice. 27 didn't seem like a high enough score, so I retook the test, but ended up with the same score. Apparently with a certain amount of partying and without certain amount of studying, you just can't get any smarter than you already are.

I graduated high school 4th in my class with a 3.9 GPA (damn math and science classes dragged me down from a 4.0) and went on to earn my bachelor's degree cum laude with a 3.5 GPA. (In college it was the damn accounting and economics classes that messed everything up). Come to think of it, accounting and economics mess everything up in the real world too!

But "street smart" is where I am lacking. I do posses common sense, but sometimes I don't possess the ability to use it. Now, I know enough not to dangle a baby from a balcony (lookin' at you, MJ) or mention the word "bomb" in an airport. Basic life or death survival? I got that. But some of the other stuff that makes people say, "I can't believe you did that" is where common sense and I part ways.

I guess if it's not going to kill me, then it doesn't matter to me so much. So I did something slightly questionable, like trying to glue on fake eyelashes using SuperGlue or accidentally burning my butt with my curling iron (don't ask). Or setting the ends of my hair on fire and singeing my eyebrows by leaning over a lit scented candle to find out what it smelled like. Even getting really confused and driving into a blocked off construction zone and having to flag down two (hot!) construction workers and have them stop traffic and move cones to let me back out onto the highway while I tried not to cry. Okay, not my finest hours. I suspect things like this happen to more people than let on. But most people have that little embarrassment filter in their brain that says "I wouldn't tell anyone about that if I was you." But I don't have that filter. I figure, heck, once the initial shock wore off, I found it pretty funny so I bet other people will also.

So all these mid-day musings boil down to this: There is that fine line between people laughing WITH you, and people laughing AT you because they think you are an idiot. I have straddled that line on many occasions, I fear. But have I crossed it?