People like me

Disclaimer: I realized, belatedly, that the title of this post can be misleading. I briefly panicked and thought, “Oh no! Innocent passersby will think I’m some full-of-myself blogger who likes to declare to the world that random people everywhere like her. It’s not true!!” (I say “innocent passersby” because everyone else who knows me will never assume that. They already know that people barely notice me, let alone “like” me for any apparent reason.) So, if you are one of those innocent passersby, please don’t judge me so soon. As you read the post, you’ll find out that people liking me is the farthest from the truth and is soooo not what I meant when I wrote the title. So don’t be afraid. Carry on. Okay. I’ll shut up now.

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I think there’s a word for people like me. You know, the devoted step-parent who’ll do anything for her stepson whom she adores like he was her own. The kind who’s more than happy to attend his band banquet even though she’s not really into crowds of other parents she’s never met before. The one who’ll go with a smile (and a camera to document the event) because it means a lot to him, and he’s a senior and hey, they were this year’s state and regional champions.

Yes, I even forgot to be overly self-conscious and procured for myself a shooting position right in front of the podium as soon as the band director started handing out recognition plaques. And I waited patiently for his name to be announced, every now and then looking anxiously at the table where he was sitting with his friends to see if there were any candid moments to shoot.

You’d think I was just like any other normal parent, concerned and always trying to do the right thing. And I can’t fault you for that.

But then, a little later, you might sneak a peek at me, and discover that I’ve gotten hopelessly distracted by the interesting ceiling covered with loose layers of billowing sheer fabric, gathered so nicely towards the center where the chandelier was hanging. And instead of paying attention to the band director, I now have my camera trained up at the ceiling at who knows what.

Yeah. I’m not too proud of myself for that. And when I say, “I think there’s a word for people like me,” please don’t respond out loud. It’s kinda rhetorical. That, and I’m really a bit scared of what you might say.

Although, in my defense, I took that while they were calling out the names of the freshmen and sophomores, so I figured they’d have more band banquets in the future that’ll erase the memory of the crazy lady taking pictures of the ceiling.

But … but … wait. Isn’t that the same lady who went for seconds of the calamari and took the last slice or two (or three) of the freshly-baked bread?

Good thing she won’t be at the banquet next year.