Amy Lu's View

Friend: “Have you ever had your bone density tested?”

Me: “Not by a medical professional.”

Yeah, sometimes meaning gets lost as it travels from my brain to my mouth.

The women at our breakfast table who heard this exchange were, unsurprisingly, a little alarmed, perhaps even flabbergasted.

But there’s no need to worry, I haven’t had a bone density test conducted by a car mechanic, or a palm reader, or dog trainer, or some random or unqualified person (professional or not). What I meant to say is that I had a bone density test but it wasn’t done at a doctor’s office or a clinic–it was part of a work wellness fair. So it probably was administered by a qualified nurse, but I’m skeptical that it was as rigorous or reliable given the wellness fair setting. 

The woman who asked me about the test was one of my fellow hikers on a recent REI trip and we were with our group having breakfast at the lodge before the day’s excursion. Once I realized how ridiculous my response was, I did make a clumsy attempt at clarification. I’m not sure my explanation fully convinced them of the soundness of my life choices, but they did seem entertained. 

I was a bit embarrassed to have said something so silly, but I also enjoyed basking in the breakfast table spotlight. That’s the complicated life of being a desperate attention seeker–sometimes you have to embrace embarrassment if it leads to good content. 

I also got to enjoy the metaphorical spotlight a bit while telling the ladies a treasured family tale involving a Burger King fish sandwich and an artificial Christmas Tree (if you ask me I’ll tell you the story in person, but I’ll refrain from sharing it on the interwebs since it’s not really my story to tell). The ladies were a captive audience as we were all in the van taking us back from a winery visit. I felt a bit like I was channeling my mother (although I wouldn’t claim her prowess as a storyteller) and had flashbacks to a van ride where she regaled fellow passengers with story after story, including one about vacuuming up Hummel figurines. 

My story seemed to entertain my audience, which made me happy, even if my perception (and their enjoyment) was influenced by the winery experience. I hope people enjoy my tales, and I do try to be somewhat conscious of not dominating social spaces with my amateur theatrics–or at least not dominating conversations with boring stories. I try to leave some room for others to talk, or to just enjoy some quiet without my constant yammering. 

As much as I like attention most of the time, I do not like it when I’m demonstrating my lack of physical coordination. The hiking group learned this when I screamed “Don’t watch me!!” when I was crossing a stream on our trail. Okay, I didn’t literally scream it, but I broadcasted that message with every nonverbal cue I could give. (I did grudgingly acknowledge that the guides could watch me as they were literally being paid to keep an eye on me). 

Our guide told us we had three options for crossing: a flattened log bridge, some big rocks, or just walking through the stream. This stream crossing wasn’t something out of an Indiana Jones movie, but for our group, it was a little treacherous and dramatic, especially as it had been raining so the log bridge and rocks were a little slippery. I opted for a combo of the rocks and walking in the stream. 

If I had been by myself, I probably would have opted for the log bridge as most of the ladies did (it was even a flattened log) but as I am super klutzy, I was nervous to try it with others watching. Not because they would have mocked me if I fell–everyone was very kind and supportive–but they would have felt bad for me. Having people feel bad for me when I do something stupid is the worst. Okay, not the worst–that would be running out of wine–but it’s up there. 

Although…if I had fallen in the stream, that would have been fodder for a fantastic story, one that I would have no qualms about conversation monopolizing to tell. 

Then again, if I had fallen off the log or the rocks, I may have needed to see an bona fide medical professional.