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Pittsburgh’s Malkin will return to lineup for playoff opener

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Seniors at Kingston Active Adult Center enjoy fun, exercise of line dancing

<p>In the movie, Beaches, there&#8217;s a quote from C.C. Bloom to Hillary: &#8220;But enough about me, let&#8217;s talk about you &#8230; what do YOU think of me?&#8221; That&#8217;s the perfect commentary on my own life. Me, me, me and me. I am C.C. Bloom.</p><p>I wasn&#8217;t always this way.</p><p>I was a shy, reticent child, always following the lead of someone more ballsy than I, until fourth grade.</p><p>That&#8217;s when we moved from the big city of Wilkes Barre to the quiet garden village of West Pittston. I was smart enough to realize I either had to remodel my entire personality to swim with the female sharks, or drown in the muddy chasm that is pre-middle school, with the more restrained and tedious fish.</p><p>Such was the genesis of my learning curve, and I chose to become obnoxious and self-centered. I was also short, squat and decidedly unathletic. But that&#8217;s a whole other column, my friends.</p><p>I&#8217;ve become even more insufferable as I&#8217;ve aged. The need for me to be spinning within the vortex of all attention has expanded along with my pelvic floor. And I don&#8217;t need to be fueled by alcohol, either, although that brings out the beast that is Even-More-Obnoxious Maria; louder, more animated and less filtered. If that&#8217;s even possible. And my good friends have no problem pointing out that I suffer from this character flaw, but by utilizing my most efficient hand gesture, I tell them how deeply I care.</p><p>Additionally, I also suffer from the ailment known as Lastworditis.</p><p>No cure.</p><p>Except maybe a punch in the face.</p><p>I&#8217;m telling you, I must have the last word, even if it&#8217;s tossed over my shoulder, under my breath or from under the pillow my husband places over my face.</p><p>This extends to texts as well. I just cannot sign off and be done with my tech-thought. Round and round I go, and where it ends nobody knows. But it usually ends only when the person on the other end deletes me.</p><p>My daughter tells me often that I can&#8217;t always say everything that pops into the mechanical mess that is my brain. She&#8217;s always been mortified by my constant need for attention and my cavernous mouth.</p><p>I feel badly that she has gone in the other direction, with her propensity to be all politically correct, quiet and polite. Who the hell&#8217;s kid is this? Well, someone had to balance the scales of this family.</p><p>Her father used to be timid too, but being married to me for 30 years has loosened him up. It&#8217;s called survival of the quietest.</p><p>A friend of a friend; a roller derby superstar named Elyse, who allegedly also enjoys the spotlight, often hears this chant from her friends: &#8220;1,2,3 &#8230; ALL EYES ON ME&#8221; when she demands attention.</p><p>They say it like it&#8217;s a bad thing! It&#8217;s not, Elyse. It&#8217;s not. Red Rover, Red Rover, Send Elyse Over! Join my verbal volleyball team. Better than derby!</p><p>Whatever.</p><p>I am who I am. Swim with the chatty sharks or cut bait. 1,2,3!</p><style>
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<div class="metaInfo"><bylineMeta><p>Maria Jiunta Heck</p><p>Life Deconstructed</p></bylineMeta></div><div class="metaInfo"><shirttailMeta><p>Maria Jiunta Heck of West Pittston is a mother of three and a business owner who lives to dissect the minutiae of life. Send Maria an email at mariajh40@msn.com.</p></shirttailMeta></div>

Life Deconstructed: One, two, three, all eyes on me: Unfiltered and proud