Not Sure About the Second Part

"Man is the only animal that blushes - or needs to." Mark Twain

My name is Wendy and I'm a blusher. Hi Wendy, welcome! Why thank you.

I'm so lucky my blushing is but a gentle flush, the sweet palest pink of a delicate tea rose. I'm even luckier that I blush only under extreme circumstances. You know, like when I laugh. Or talk.

I think I sometimes make it entire days- maybe even weeks- ok, days, without my face going from 0 to burgundy within 5 seconds. How fortunate I am that when my visage assumes its Lapplander-in-the-noonday-equatorial-sun hue, I always have someone kind enough to loudly point it out to me. Because, you know, the fact that I feel like it's 300 degrees in the room isn't enough. And for those keeping score at home, this has happened to me all my life. It isn't a *hushed whisper* perimenopause thing
.

When workers are locked up in tight confines for long hours (such as today's 12 hour funapalooza), they are going to get a bit silly at times. Especially if I'm around. Although I'm pride myself on my ability to generate sophisticated witticisms at lightning-fast speed, sometimes that's just too much work. At such times, it feels great- like staggering to the refrigerator for first swig of cold diet coke in the morning great- to lapse into abject stupidity.

Cutting to chase: During break in 2 1/2 hour meeting, two coworkers and I somehow end up engaging in puns. Food puns. Pizza more specifically. "Do you dough any more?" Tee hee. "We're being so cheesy" Bwa ha! And then this (in best mafia don accent) "You wanna pizza me?"

Even though I was the one who said it, I'm still entitled to laugh as hard as the others, which is to say much harder than should have been laughed at all because, as you are judgementally thinking (fy), it's not that funny. Except it was.

And yes my face turned the color of pepperoni (what lovely imagery). And yes, this was loudly pointed out to me from across the room, or across the state line, or whatever, because- if you haven't gotten the point by now- when I blush I radiate in a thermonuclear manner, possibly one day necessitating the hiring of a Hazmat crew to restore a room to safety after I leave.

What am I supposed to say to someone when they are rude enough to brazenly gape at the freak of nature that is me? Today I contemplated quietly and sadly whispering that my face gets red when my heart condition (no, I don't have one) is acting up. It would be great fun to watch the pointee try to backpeddle their way out of that one.

When I was in training for my current position, the trainer handed out copies that she admitted were of poor quality. I squinted at mine and informed her I couldn't read it. With an exasperated sigh she ripped it out of my hands, 'Blah blah blahed' her way through the first few sentences and announced that SHE could read it. I looked up at her forlornly: "Yes, but you're not blind in your left eye." She didn't turn merlot like me, but she stammered and blushed and was very, very nice to me after that.

My vision in my left eye is 20/40, but, whatever. It was an effective comeback.

I'm honestly not that motivated to think of a zinger-like retort to the next person who points out my blushing. Really.

Maybe I have no shame. Or less than I used to.

How fabulous is that?