Friday, July 18, 2008

THE MELANIE CURSE

This is a real curse, I swear.
Are you like me in that you are always really interested in other people that share your name? I mean, maybe this isn't so true for people who are named Emily, or Jennifer (as you'd be interested in every fourth or fifth person) but maybe if your name is Bambi, or Josephine, or Thelma. Melanie is common enough where people don't think its a really offbeat name, but just uncommon enough that you don't meet Melanies every day. I probably meet another Melanie every other month or so. I always feel personally affronted when the other Melanie does not look like me or has a better body than I do. Hey! My name is Melanie too! How dare you be a size 2 and I am a size ___! Almost universally though, the Melanie has been a brunette, so I am appeased. That being said, I could barely sit through Sweet Home Alabama. My name is Melanie, so I should be blonde, and southern, and have a tiny body and be a fashion designer and have married parents and have to choose between Patrick Dempsey and Josh Lucas! But blonde or brunette, fat or skinny, rich or poor, you cannot escape.........the Melanie Curse.
That's where you humiliate yourself on a weekly basis. Its not your fault, you can't be blamed, just laughed at. I am totally OK with being laughed at, but I DRAW THE LINE at having people say that someone "pulled a Melanie." Someone said that to me once and they "pulled a Melanie's fist." Just Kidding. But seriously, no pulling a Melanie, ok?
Anyway, like the poop files, these stories are designed to give you a laugh and make you feel better about your own lives. I have many, many stories about how I have fallen prey to The Melanie Curse and been humiliated. I have no idea what order to put them into, so I guess they will just be random. Some will be long, some short. All will make you grateful your name is Gertrude, or Ethel. That being said, if anyone reads this named Melanie, tell me, and you can join the Melanie Club!

The Melanie Curse Zap #1.
I was in High School. I was dating a particular boy. Halfway through my senior year, a new boy came to the High School. His name was Rocky. (I'm not kidding) I immediately noticed that while from the front this boy did not look anything like my current boyfriend, from the back, they looked exactly the same. I am talking clone head, shoulders, back. This observation would, of course, come back to haunt me. One fine academic day I was on a teacher's errand from my class to my boyfriend's class. Upon entering the darkened classroom (they were watching a movie) I spotted my boyfriend across the room. His back was turned, (nefariously not watching said film) and I whispered to the teacher a request to go say hi to my main squeeze. He rolled his eyes absentmindedly (or perhaps diabolically) and waved me over. I crossed the room, leaned down and gave my boy a tight hug, and a magnificent wet smackeroo on the cheek. He turned, and amidst the hysterical laughter of his seatmates, I noticed, this was not my boy toy. Things were to say the least, a little Rocky.
I froze.
I had never spoken to this boy before! He had no idea who I was, and yet I had hugged him, and bussed him!
It was SO humiliating.
But, as I am sure you will all agree, very very funny.
I am still blushing as I write this, 8 years later.

1 comments:

fourbabies4us said...

Hey Melanie,
I got your message on my blog. Thanks for getting that info to your MIL and for not thinking I'm completely crazy!
Do you live by Amber? Maybe I'll meet you sometime...
Michelle