“The rate at which a person can mature is directly proportional to the embarrassment he can tolerate.”

Quote by Douglas Engelbart. To the late Engelbart, you really had a point there. I do not think I can be truly authentic to my readers if I do not divulge certain details I may deem embarrassing. Let’s call this the “embracing” part of Myndfulness.


Not long ago (a year ago, perhaps) I started a Word doc to write down all the flooding thoughts entering my mind. This document made no sense whatsoever to a third-party  viewer if they were to ever have the displeasure of finding it. Sometimes a page would have the same sentence over and over again. Thoughts that entered more than others were given larger text sizes. This document was located in a folder in a folder in a folder on my desktop, inception-style, so that no one would ever find it. Note on that: who would ever go looking in all my files for a document named “Cheetos” of all names?? (I thought I was being very clever in my misleading labeling, mind you). Anyways, to the best of my ability, I would write down my thoughts as they materialized on days they were distracting me from getting work done. I think my main objective was to see if I could make sense of my thoughts like the Da Vinci Code but ultimately the jumbled pages were, simply put, an editor’s worst nightmare. I think I will stick to constructive blog writing from now on. Has anyone ever used Microsoft Word to do this? …Sorry, Bill Gates.


I’m sure you have stumbled upon advice columns that tell you the worst food items to have your first date to avoid eating fiascos (For example). Now imagine a world where every restaurant and food group leads to this outcome. You have now entered Annie-Land- where what you eat will surely end up somewhere besides your plate and mouth, every time. The first sit-down date with my now-boyfriend was at a Sushi restaurant near our college campus. We had just returned from our first date function (to be fair: that morning we picked up McDonalds yet I refuse to call that the first date meal!). In the rather short period of time with him I managed to get rice in my hair and spicy mayo on my shirt. I guess the moral of the story is I still landed bae but I’m definitely in the market for adult-size bibs, if anyone knows a guy.


Sounds. Emulating from my mouth. When I’m nervous. I will be in an uncomfortable situation and then become acutely aware of the fact that I am quietly beat-boxing in public or making clicking noises with my teeth. I’m not a stranger to making noises- here is some history on that. At a very young age I had a speech impediment. At the end of each sentence I would release a noise that was like a murmur that I could not hear yet everyone else could. This might sound strange because it’s obviously me creating the noise, so shouldn’t I be able to hear it, you ask? Well, it was more like a lingering breath that felt to me more like an exhale than a sound. It was, as the title of this post suggests, embarrasing, for young-Annie. I saw a speech therapist who cured me and all we did together was play games after school and chat. I think she believed the murmuring was a nervous tick I acquired that helped gently ease me. When I had more confidence in what I was saying, I no longer needed to make a followup confirmation in the form of sound. When these sounds present themselves now, I believe it has the same purpose to ease the situation or clear some awkward silence lingering in the air. I actually made a best friend, who of the many things in common I have with, one is the nervous noise production. I’ll beat-box to that! Boomchikaboomboom.


I guess the last embarrassing thing I can think of is my stress-induced stomach cramps. I know that health-related concerns shouldn’t technically be “embarrassing” because they are out of one’s control but let me explain. I have a very sensitive stomach and I have to be careful with my relationship with both fiber and exams (the second part is partially a joke). In the most inopportune situations, mostly when I am in a completely quiet room and or stressed-out, my stomach will unleash cramps in the abdominal region with the pain of doing crunch after crunch. I could tolerate this discomfort if it were not for the audible noises that accompany it in what I call a symphony of death. The noises emitted would make any listener believe I haven’t had a crumb to eat in the past 24 hours even if I had just ate. I’ve had every type of blood work you could imagine to find the root of the problem including a colonoscopy and endoscopy (at the ripe age of 21!) and I am negative on all counts. Next time you hear rumbling in a quiet room- look for a blonde head of hair and I might be there! (Or RUN because it could actually be an earthquake—don’t take any chances).

Final notes:

Hope you all enjoyed this post- this task seemed really daunting at first but I actually had a laugh with it. My wish is that we can all get to a point where we embrace the things we hide from others for fear of judgement. No one is perfect, after all!

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