Hot Mess? Who? Me?

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“I’m a hot mess.”

“Don’t mind me. I’m just a hot mess.”

“Sorry. I’m a hot mess. Most of the time.”

“Mostly, I’m just a hot mess.”

“Crap! I’m such a hot mess.”

These are phrases that come out of my mouth on almost a daily basis.

Walk into a pole? I’m a hot mess.

Embarrass myself in front of famous authors? I’m a hot mess.

Almost destroy my new boyfriend’s bathroom rug? I’m definitely a hot mess.

So when I was at GenCon, it wasn’t a surprise that I was walking into people, knocking shit over, and dropping things all over the place, apologizing with “I’m a hot mess.”

What I did find surprising (and really, I shouldn’t have), was at one point in the con, when some guy walked past me, yelling, “Hey! It’s the Hot Mess!”

And then it registered. And I was like. “You remembered me?” Because obviously, I don’t even know what stupid thing I had done (probably when I dropped like 5 games off a shelf) to be so memorable.

Of course, he proceeded to tell me that he “had a thing for redheads.” At which point, I smiled and walked away.

Only to see him a few hours later, again yelling out to me, “Hey! How’s it going Hot Mess?!”

I just hung my head in shame and walked away. When I told Brian, he just told me to stop calling myself a hot mess (after I explained that I was the one who said it first…I think he was ready to punch a guy for calling me a hot mess…or at least that’s how I imagined it.)

Which is easier said than done.

The face of a serious hot mess
The face of a serious hot mess

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15 Responses

  1. You are who you are…But I agree with Brian. Stop calling yourself a Hot Mess. You really are not one. A klutz…yes. We love you anyway.

  2. Hmmm, I think “Hot Klutz” works better for me. Be a proud “Hot Klutz”! Just one thing. . . ask Brian if he will teach you how to throw a baseball (or even softball) 😉

      1. Hopefully no Labor Day softball game. If you have to play, request you be put in right field and tell the umpire to watch your bat. It might go flying by itself 😉

        1. Actually, I totally “played” softball with the family yesterday…but there was no running. And I didn’t have to go into the field at all. Really, I just swung a bat at the softball and hit it a few times.

  3. Us crazy, weird, fun, hot mess people need to stick together. Plus, we’re more fun! Who wants to grow up anyway?

    Hey, I’m a fellow Yelper too! Just sent a friend request. Thanks for commenting on my blog. Hope you signed up for email updates. I love stalkers!


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