First, a note: I have recently created three RSS feeds so that those of you interested my professional articles but not my personal musings can subscribe just to the articles, and vice versa. The feed that combines all the content is still in place for those of you who want to get the whole picture. You don’t need to change anything to stay subscribed to the combined feed. More details are available here.

Now onto the good stuff.

( Blush )

After having some great fun embarrassing a new friend in the last couple of days, complete with unflattering photos and references to bodily functions (the old stand-bys never let you down), I got to thinking about what would embarrass me the most.

I have always been terribly afraid of being embarrassed. I don’t know if this has to do with my gender or my chemistry or just my personality, but the thought of making a fool of myself fills me with terror. After having already dealt with the big C and the the big D, I have to say that feeling embarrassed is what I fear the most.

My quest to not embarrass myself has led to claims of shyness, avoidance of public speaking, and various other insecurities and defense mechanisms. I am getting better at dealing with it— I have learned that I often know what I’m talking about and therefore am unlikely to embarrass myself, and when I don’t know what I’m talking about I can fake it with the best of them. (I’m convinced that this is a skill that boys learn early on, but most girls have to practice at it).

But there is still one thing I cannot fake, and that is an ability to sing.

( Tremble )

Like the Schwandts and Hetslers that came before me, when the singing voices were handed ‘round, I must have been otherwise occupied. Listening to my family sing “Happy Birthday” has caused permanent damage to sensitive ears the world over. We can appreciate the finer points of music and we can play instruments, but we cannot carry a tune to save our lives.

This would all be fine if I didn’t have a secret desire to be able to belt out cheesy 80’s tunes (“Careless Whisper”, “Kiss Me Deadly”) at karaoke with my friends that were blessed with prefect pitch (I’m looking at you, Jess).

Now, some of you may know that I’m no stranger to the beer or to the martini, if conditions are right. I usually don’t let things get out of hand, but there have been times when my inhibitions have seemed to be a bit lowered. And I can’t be completely sure that won’t ever happen again.

So my greatest fear is that I will have those lowered inhibitions, a microphone will be at hand, and Anthony will be there will a DVD recorder. I think I would quite simply have to crawl into a hole and never come out again.

Your Turn

What’s your greatest fear? I promise, rational or irrational, I won’t use it against you on the interweb.