I’m very flattered.
However I do notice that it is always a sex goddess, who is spoken for, or gay men who think I’m hot.
I get the intimidating thing, too. I think the pathological shyness may be the key. It’s certainly not my physical presence. I’m 5’3", average weight, average looks. I hate confrontation, though if you’re an asshole I can respond in kind if I’m in the right mood.
It has to be the way I walk around with that projected silence someone above mentioned. I simply don’t know what to say to people, so I don’t say anything. I can be in a room with people who have no clue I’m actually there. (I should’ve been an assassin. :))
On the other hand, I’ve always been well aware that I’m short. My sister, who’s five years younger, has been taller than me since she was eight (she’s 5’10" now).
Me too! I always think of myself as lazy and petty and judgemental and kinda mean, but apparently most of that’s confined to my “inside voice” (the one inside my head.)
That does sound really cool. I’ve got a friend who I imagine moves much like you do; he sits like a gorilla, too. It’s actually a very erect, although relaxed erect, position. It exudes power and control.
Twangs Zsofia’s high C. 
Add me to this list, as well. And yeah, I think it has to do with pathological shyness. I’ve got the double whammy of being a painfully shy extrovert. I know that sounds contradictory, but it’s not. It just takes me a super long time - years, usually - to feel comfortable around people, and when that finally happens, I’m the center of the party. But until then, I’m a lonely wallflower, a little aloof and pretty quiet. So people see me not talking to them, but being very social with others who I’ve known longer, and they…I’m not sure what they think. That I’m cliquish? That I’m a bitch? That I hate them? I’ve heard the word “intimidating” before; really it’s because I’m intimidated by THEM!
But the guy who does my nails recently confided that he was intimidated and “scared” by me when I first started coming to his salon. That was weird! He’s got a clientele full of the most beautiful big loud brash black women in Chicago, and this little ol’ suburban white chick scared him? Whaaa???
Last week, I was told by a couple of black women (not at the salon) that I “got a little Sistah” in me. It made me smile, and then made me miss **Askia **a whole lot. He once told me the same thing. I don’t know what it is, but (and this sounds so fucking Stephen Colbert) black women like me. I like them. (Black men like my badonkadonk, but that’s another story.) I’m proud to have a little Sistah in me, but I never would have known it if they hadn’t told me!
Just the other day, my therapist confirmed a diagnosis of ADD. I’m 28 1/2. And I’m thrilled to have an answer for what’s been “wrong” with me my whole life. YAY for good therapists!
For the sake of science and eradicating ignorance, I’m willing to examine this in further detail if you’d like.
Ah, the sacrifices a true scientist will make…you’re too kind!
Last night, my boyfriend, apropos of nothing, pauses Mad Men while I’m eating some chips and salsa to say “It freaks me out to watch girls eat. Girls eat weird. And you eat really weird.”
“What? What’s wrong with the way I eat?”
“You use your tongue like an extra utensil. See how you reach out and grab your chips with it? And just a minute ago there was a chip fragment at the corner of your lip and you zapped it with your tongue like an amphibian thing.”
“… Thanks. Thanks a lot. Do you want the rest of these chips?”
I had it pointed out to me that I was incredibly intense, very negative, and extremely nosy. I’m still fairly intense, but better at hiding it. I worked on the negativity and I think it’s gone, except in extreme circumstances–I think it was related to my anxiety disorder. And the nosiness is an inherent and habitual curiosity and thirst for knowledge/data/whatever, but I have a much better grip on it than I had in the past, and only allow it reign in appropriate circumstances. So. Overall, though it hurt to hear, it was greatly to my benefit to hear it.
I’ve been complimented on the fact that I never gossip and try to assume the best motives concerning other people’s actions. This would probably get me shredded and eaten with ketchup in some environments, but I’ve mainly had decent co-workers.
If it makes you feel better, I’ve never thought that or heard anyone say that about any woman. I have however had a few girlfriends that didn’t like eating in front of me when we first started dating, I always thought that was weird.
If anything the fact that I’m gay means my opinion on this issue is MORE valid, not less (we’re a very shallow people ;))
Should I change my location to “Illuminatiprimus’ sex dreams”
Only if you don’t mind sharing with Antinor1.
Apparently, I’m a loud person. when I speak, i speak loudly, when I walk, I trudge loudly, etc…
Being a bookwormy and generally shy person my whole life, I had never thought of myself as loud until my wife pointed it out many moons ago… then some co-workers at an old job pointed it out, then more co-workers at a new job, then my present co-workers bought me a megaphone as a gag gift for x-mas. I try to keep it down, but I guess I just have good natural resonance. Or I’m a clumsy oaf.
Perhaps they were afraid they’d forget themselves and zap a fly. 
This is so funny, because my best friend has always accused me of doing the exact same thing. Only she calls it ‘‘giraffing.’’ ‘‘Why do you giraffe your food?’’ She started accusing me of this years ago when we were in high school. Recently she was showing me her new cell phone. Her user icon for me is a picture of a giraffe.
Apparently, I’m super-pale.
I mean, I’m not blind, obviously I know I’m fair-skinned, and when I purchase cosmetics, I know to purchase the lightest ones. But whenever I get work, the makeup people seem… horrified by how pale I am. So much so that one had to dig into the bottom of her kit to find a super-light base that apparently she never, ever uses.
This also comes up when I donate blood or have blood taken. The blood donor nurses and my own doctor (who should know better) just assume I’m anemic, which I’m not. Actually, my mother-in-law assumed that, too, and when I said, “No I’m not!” she said, “But you’re so PALE!”
This happens to me, too, though I’ve been made aware of my paleness since junior high. I had all sorts of nicknames referencing my paleness. There was a guy in my high school band who would scream, ‘‘Do not look directly at the white!’’ whenever I wore shorts. When I was in a play one of the makeup artist mothers remarked, ‘‘I’m trying to get the coloration right but your skin is so ghastly white!’’ She actually used the word ‘‘ghastly.’’
I used to be insecure about it, and try the tan-in-a-bottle stuff (I am pretty much allergic to the sun so real tanning is out.) Now I really don’t care, and kind of prefer myself that way. My husband calls me his little vampire.
My husband pointed out to me, very gently, that I take everything way too hard. Which I, of course, took way too hard. But I’m working on that, and getting a lot better.
I am often told that people feel comfortable and relaxed around me, and that my home is a welcoming and warm place to be. Apparently people love coming here. I’m a little bemused by this, but I like it.
Oh, me too. People at work ask me questions all the time because I’m “good with computers.” For the life of me I can’t figure out what’s so mystical about being able to remember how to resize a screen or mute sounds, but no one else seems to be able to figure it out.
Like Carlyjay, I wouldn’t know how astonishingly fair I am without other people. I know I’m fair skinned, as a redhead it’s practically a given. But it’s only once in a while that I notice that I’m really pale, like when it’s cold out and I reach for a doorknob, exposing a very white wrist. But normally, I don’t seem that white to myself. It makes me wonder if others always see me as ghostly white. At least my co-workers and friends are brighter than the girls in high school who wanted to know why I didn’t “like, go to a tanning salon?” They just couldn’t grasp the fact that it wouldn’t work on someone who doesn’t get tans from the sun.
At work I am apparently both strict and intimidating to some people. I’m rarely loud (in fact I’ve conversely been told frequently that I need to speak up) and I’m not even average height, but I make precious snowflakes tremble. Is it intimidating to expect the people you’re supervising to focus on the business at hand? Okay, earlier this month I did yell at people saying “Be quiet! There are still people working around you!” when people got very noisy at the end of a project, but that’s a rare exception.