Dear Diary

So I am finally going to get in on this bloggery business. I figure,  why not?  For posterity or whatever.

Plus, what if I get amnesia?  A blog would be a useful tool.  So there is that. 

Here is the story of a thing that happened to me at work today,  and some background,  just in case.

I have been at my new job for like five or six weeks.  I am still settling in to the office culture and trying to find out more about office Becca.  She is weird.  Kinda lame, even,  but maybe she will get more interesting once she is comfortable.

Today, we had our weekly meeting for the advertising department   and we were reviewing and discussing a potential new product that is apparently to be focused on "my demographic". 

I don't know specifically which demographic,  but through process of elimination,  I have deduced that this focus is on 25-29 year old- married-childless- non-religious- fiscally conservative- socially moderate - mostly white- women.  Based on that deduction,  I am concerned that this product may be too niche to sell ad space. 

Anyway,  I was picked by my group (in some form of middle aged woman sorority hazing?) to be The Speaker and thusly to stand and eschew forth a coherent string of words in order to convey our haphazard list of brain storm mush to a room of my superiors.  Read:Public speaking,  with hasty notes, in the middle of a room,  with no podium or microphone- just my stage presence to carry me.  It was petrifying.  I managed to fake it and then do an Awkward Girl Curtsy (TM)  at the end,  in hopes of currying favor through the use of my odd humor. I don't know if it worked. 

I got a few complimentary remarks afterwards,  but the critic in me believes that they were extended out of the pity that comes from a place of "please don't make us put nets under all of our windows". 

Fortunately,  I am blessed with the gift of rarely feeling shame.  I reflect on this event with the mind of a scientist,  studying my awkward ways after the fact. 
Why don't I dread public speaking like 99% of sane humanity? 

I clearly should.  I am not very good at it.  I say the word "like" more than a valley girl in Clueless. I notice it,  and then I do it MORE. 

One of the many mysteries of my own brain. 

In other news: 

Today, I planted seeds in little seed holders.  Some veggie babies for my soon to be extant raised-bed- square-foot garden. 

I put little shreds of steamed broccoli in the soil with the seeds. Is that weird? My garden soil was pretty old and dry.  I didn't have any non-questionable soil amenders around. I did have left over steamed broccoli in the fridge. It felt right. We will see what happens.