Mrs. Cellophane Shoulda Been My Name

Little known fact: I was a musical theater major my first year of college. Really. With a small vocal scholarship to boot.

And I love music. But you already knew that. I wish my life were a Broadway musical where people just break into song. (Unabridged girl reminded me of this with her post, Life: The Musical) I hum so much around the house my husband calls me his hummingbird.

I love the song Mister Cellophane from Chicago. I have felt like this so many times in my life.

I’m one of those drivers that actually allows X amount of car lengths between me and the next car. I hate tailgaters. And, as a result, people are always cutting in front of me or cutting me off. I shout, “Do I have a sign on my back that says Walk All Over Me?” My husband just laughs and calls me his favorite doormat.

When my in-laws are in town I’m made keenly aware of how transparent I can be. They’re talkers. And interrupters. So 8 or 9 times during their visit I’ll start to add something to the conversation and they’ll trounce all over me – so I’ll pause, waiting to finish. But my time never comes. And they don’t even realize I had a story to finish. And it always takes me the 8 or 9 times before I finally just stop talking. I become the Amazing-Listener-Who-Hangs-On-Your-Every-Word-Daughter-In-Law.

Instead, I just feel like Mrs. Cellophane. It really shoulda been my name.

“..’cause you can look right through me
Walk right by me
And never know I’m there!”


Filed under Music

19 responses to “Mrs. Cellophane Shoulda Been My Name

  1. suzicate

    I hope it helps to know that your bloggy friends hang on your every word, and come back every day for more! I love your thought pattern with tis ending with the video…bravo!

  2. That might be true in your day-to-day, Jane, but it’s certainly not true here in the blogosphere. Here you are very much present, have a voice that is respected, have people who come back time and time again to read and listen to you.

    It’s the beauty of the blog: a place to discover and appreciate those other sides of who we are that don’t often get a chance to come out in the day-to-day.

    I’ll hum a tune for you today. 🙂

  3. You need this for when you drive my dear:

    I am thinking good for when people are interrupting you too!

    p.s. Now I NEED to hear you sing! Raise your hand if you think Jane should sing for her readers!!!

  4. I have one of those voices that somehow disappears as soon as it leaves my lips. My husband is always laughing at me that I sound like Charlie Brown’s mom when I talk. I have to ENUNCIATE or no one hears me. I hate when people talk over me and don’t let me finish… I actually sometimes say, “HELLO???? STILL TALKING OVER HERE!” That usually stops them.

    As everyone else stated… your words are more than heard here. We love your voice!

  5. I love that song! LOVE it!

    But you, my friend, are much more substantial.

  6. angelcel

    Ooh I say, your in-laws don’t have a lot of French in their blood do they? The scenario you describe is *just* like visits to my in-laws and, as my husband says, with a rueful smile: ‘It’s all about all speaking at once and all speaking louder than each other. You’ve just got to get used to it!’ I can tell you that after 30+ years of practise I’m still ‘the quiet one’.

    Love that song.

  7. My family does that to my husband and I always feel so bad about it…after the fact when he tells me because often fail to notice too! I am such a blabber mouth sometimes!

  8. unabridgedgirl

    Aww. That’s sad! 😦

  9. ck

    For a minute there I felt like I was proofing something I’d written about myself.

    From your beautiful writing and insightful posts, I never would’ve seen you this way too.

  10. Pingback: I’m happy. I’m feeling glad. « Faemom

  11. I’ll hang on your every word. I promise!
    I’m just the oppisite. It’s all just one long monologue and you just have to interupt me. 😉 But when someone else’s talking, then I promise I shut up and listen to every word because it’s only fair. I can talk the ears off a cow.

  12. Your posts are on my list of ‘cannot be ignored’ because of the depth, insight, love and humor you apply to your lifestyle. Thank you for sharing this too.

    This used to happen with my Dad and Brothers. But I became a bit of a pushy broad in my 30’s and now I just say “Excuse me, I am not finished!” and they get all taken aback. Its fun. But – its different with in-laws!

  13. Aw Jane! WE hear you!!!

  14. Allow me to add my voice to the rest of your fan club here: you might feel like cellophane, but you’re more like aluminum foil to me – reflecting light and offering a chance for me to look more closely at myself.

    (I do love that song, though!)

  15. You are the most amazing bunch of followers a blogger could have! Thanks so much for the sweet words. If I ever need a lift I know just where to turn. (Please know this post was not meant to be a pity party pick me up. Just how I was feeling in the moment that I wrote my Tunes for Tuesday post. I’m over it now!)

  16. Joe

    Going through my blog roll this morning, I saw this blog title, didn’t read a word of it until now, but still had this song in my head all day. This is one of those songs that gets stuck in my head for days.

  17. Ditto to Kristin’s reply and my hand is raised and wav ing waiting for you to post a video of YOU singing! Go Jane!

  18. Oh, Jane, no!
    That song always makes me so sad. We could never look right thru you like you’re not even there!!
    What would you tell your own daughter to do in this case?

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