I might as well go ahead and document the huge changes that have happened in my life, since my Final Exam blog in May:

1. - Finished final exams with style
2. - Saw Amy off to Mexico
3. - Received wonderful wedding gifts at three showers (still not finished with those thank-you notes…)
4. - Began a full-time position as Jr. Programmer/Analyst at Capsugel
5. - Spent a week at Salkehatchie roofing, flooring, painting, and reparing
6. - Spent a week in Atlanta for job training (yay ITIL…)
7. - Spent a week in Columbia for Grand Assembly
8. - Married the ever-charming and handsome Brian Dean
9. - Spent a week in Chicago on our honeymoon (as far away from sunburn as we could get)
10. - Moved into a cute new apartment with Brian and Penny, the adorable but devious kitten
11. - Began a new semester of classes, working around my 8-5 job as much as possible

So there they are, in all their brief and bulleted splendor, implying that they are far less significant than the previous blog which was expressed in full-paragraphs and rich description. Of course, these things aren’t any less significant; they’re just a bit outdated.

Several weeks ago I came to the realization that I am frequently making some unusual face, and almost never realize I am doing so. When I’m deep in thought, concerned, tired, daydreaming, or doing anything that doesn’t require a conscious effort to control my facial muscles, they simply wander off and contort themselves into whatever position they feel is most appropriate for the situation. It is almost never actually appropriate for the situation. Typically when I catch myself making an unpleasant face, it’s when I’m alone and lost in whatever thoughts are on my mind. As hideous and humorous as these faces are, they aren’t all that alarming, since I’m the only one who is aware that they are happening. Because I thought my face-contortion problem was surrounded and protected by this private little bubble, I was very upset today to discover the true and very-public nature of my problem.

Most of you who live here in South Carolina (or are otherwise knowledgeable about southern etiquette) are familiar with the polite smile and nod that comes along with passing a stranger in a hallway or sidewalk. I’m no rebel when it comes to social nuances such as this, and I always try my best to follow these polite customs and greet passerby, just the same as I try to hold doors for people behind me and let the old lady with the loaf of bread in front of me in the grocery line.

This morning I was on my way to the coffee machine in the canteen – a path I could now easily traverse in my sleep, and my mind was deftly running through the various stages of instruction execution in preparation for my 9:00 exam. At some point in the journey, between the office and the cafeteria (and between Instruction Fetch and Instruction Decode), I passed a colleague headed in the other direction. Perhaps a face I had seen in the hallways before, and maybe even spoken with, but there was not enough recognition to trigger any interruption in my brain’s activities, and so my body instinctively followed through with the “smile, nod, two-seconds-of-eye-contact” response. I happened to be passing a fairly reflective window at the time of the smiling and nodding. And having been making a conscious effort to watch my facial habits, I noticed my face reflected back to me as I smiled and nodded past my coworker.

Except it wasn’t even really a smile; it was more of a scrunched, tight-lipped almost-acknowledgment. In fact, the corners of my mouth were definitely turned down instead of up, and the face conveyed a distinct message of pity. It’s the same kind of smile one would give to a friend who is telling you about this class he is failing even though he studies, or recounting the story of a childhood pet that is no longer alive. That distant, displaced, I’m-sorry smile. My hallway-greeting smile was pretty much exactly like that, except the eyebrows were raised a little, instead of being sadly furrowed (making it less depressing, and instead coming off as somewhat confused and dismayed). It was hideous. My stomach actually turned when I saw it. It could easily have made small children run away. And that’s the face I make to hallway pedestrians, my first impression on many of them?

It’s really been a shock to me, making this discovery. I did some practice greetings in front of the mirror a little while ago, and I came to the conclusion that it wasn’t just a one-time mistake. The contorted pity-face is a very natural response that I was able to quickly recreate without any trouble. I hope desperately that I am able to re-train my instincts – a difficult task, considering that the face happens when I’m already lost in distraction. I’m also rather concerned about other instinctive responses that might trigger some other surprisingly hideous public-face.

I had decided before that my next blog would consist of an apology to everyone for not documenting the huge changes that have happened in my life since the smelly-cell-phone blog, but after today, I think it’s much more pressing and important that I apologize to all of you for the terrible, pitiful, angry, disgusted, or otherwise unacceptable faces that I have made at you or near you in the past. I’m sure there have been a slew of them, and you’ve all been more than kind not to mention them to me for the sake of my feelings, but perhaps it will be easier on you all, now that you know I know. I’m a better person for knowing, I think, and I hope you will all tell me the next time you catch me with my eyes crossed or my jaw displaced, so that I can take corrective actions and better myself.

In recent news, I drove Amy to the airport yesterday. Her flight left at 6:25 PM EST for the London Airport, set to arrive at about 7:00 AM local time in London – just enough time to get to her orientation for school. I’m sure she’s having a great time, and despite her promises to write and blog, I don’t expect to hear from her until I pick her up in Atlanta on December 21st.

In all my trips to Atlanta, I seem to have always managed to avoid driving through the very heart of the city. I’ve always either exited to Little Five Points or bypassed around the city to get to my destination on the perimeter. Yesterday found me white-knuckled and weaving through bumper-to-bumper 80-MPH 8-lane interstate traffic. While I don’t care to recount that part of the trip, I feel the need to be publicly thankful for my life and the life of my passengers today. Hopefully my blood pressure will come back down sometime today.

In the few minutes of research I did before this blog, I came across a link that I think is worth publishing. Hope you all enjoy.