time to foil my reputation: i don't do small talk.

the hard truth is, i have always been too lame to have rumors started about me. 

it's true! and it kind of stinks? it's like in junior high when you secretly hoped that your house would get teepeed because it meant people were thinking about you. was that just me? excuse me while i turn off my avril lavigne cd and wipe away my tears...

now, back to the point: i was. i was lame. my boobs weren't nearly perky or big enough to look fake, i was too lazy to entangle myself in girl-drama, and my parents never appeared to be apart of the mafia or anything of the like. it wasn't that i was well-liked, it's just that i was boring. 

but there is one common misconception that seems to follow me everywhere (see, the picture is me trying to run from these fallacies! it's metaphorical and stuff!). it is, that drum roll please, brooke has great social skills. 

(now i promise this isn't one of those times where i am pretending to put myself down but am really outright bragging. trust me, i am shameless enough to do it less subtly...like this! everyone loves my eyebrows...i wonder why? they stink. but really they rock.)

for years, i have always been placed in school-groups where i am so obviously the person that's supposed to bond everyone together to sing kumbaya. i usually get placed in odd seating arrangements and am summoned to talk to weird cousins at family reunions (other people's family reunions, mind you!). i'm the buffer.

but i stink at it. sure, i can talk to anyone...but i really can't talk about any thing.

for example: 

at the bridal store i work at, there is a lot of time for chatting. whether you are helping a bride into a gown in the dressing room or are sitting with the bride's family as they are delibirating, there is silence and it needs to be filled.

while most people would bring up the weather or...chrismas decorations?, i always find myself asking does it hurt your hoo-ha's to breastfeed? and how'd it feel to have that big thing come out of the birth canal? and ...you can be honest, is she your favorite child or no? 

just the other day i found myself telling a bride's mom that...

i want to be pregnant for fifteen straight years of my life! i want to have so many children that i don't even know half of their names. i just want them running around biting at my ankles. my poor lady parts.

she nodded and, remarkably, daughter didn't buy the dress.

i feel like i am an over-sharer, too. it just makes me feel comfortable. i almost feel like the person talking to me can just sense that peeing on airplanes thrills me or that i really don't mind drip-drying. why not just let it out? plus, you have to fill that natural pause in the conversation with something...right?

...now that i have rambled, can we talk about your biggest insecurity? or dark stories from your childhood? who's your least favorite sibling?