I wonder what you think of me.
You don’t know me, have never met me, only know what you read and what you see here on this or other sites. Or perhaps you do know me, but haven’t seen me in a while. Perhaps you’re a long-lost friend from middle school, who Googled me and came upon this site. Maybe you’re an ex who I’ve lost contact with, someone who I haven’t thought about in ages. And I wonder – whoever you are, however you got here – what you think.
I try to look at my site through an outsider’s eyes, reading what I wrote years ago and trying to figure out what a person that didn’t really know me thought I was trying to convey. I look at my photo albums, see myself with various friends, and wonder if someone is also looking at them, trying to figure out which one of those boys is my boyfriend (if any), who is my best friend, and was I drunk? Was I happy? Was I just pretending to have a good time?
Not that it matters. I am who I am – I’m a somewhat-crazy girl who’s accent turns stronger when I’ve had a few margaritas, the same girl that everyone can diagnose as “drunk” because I’m blessing everyone’s heart from here to Texas. And looking back, I never thought I would turn out this way. I’m sure, neither did you.
I wasn’t crowned “Most Likely to Succeed.” I didn’t win “Best Hair” or even “Most Likely to go to Jail.” (I’m not sure if they had that, but – well, just don’t ask me about slow dancing on the roof of Hooters anytime soon.) I don’t know who – if anyone – really had any expectations of me one way or another. I’m not yet certain how people thought of me 10-years ago, much less now, so I’m at a loss to think that I’ve surprised you or let you down or ended up just the way you thought I would.
I stopped caring about others’ expectations of me long ago. My parents never put a lot of pressure on me to get good grades or to study or to be what society would call “a good kid”, and yet I did, mostly because I wanted to. I had a motivation to study, wanted to excel, wanted to stay out of trouble. So the path I ended up going down was always mine to begin with, which is where it still is today.
And yet I’m curious, not because I want to know if you think I’m smart or dumb or pretty or ugly or think I spend far too much time talking about myself, but because I find it interesting. I know how many times I’ve misjudged someone, based on a quick meeting or even the way they talked or the way they dressed. I’m not proud of that, but it’s human nature, it’s reality. People do make judgments about you, and I believe we should go into life knowing that, knowing that the littlest thing might influence if someone ends up being your friend or not.
It’s not going to change me one way or another, and as I look back on pictures from ten, from five, from two years ago, I see myself the way I remember myself being. Insecure at times, unsure of my future, looking for love in a happenstance way that I sometimes continue to do today.
Or maybe, again, I’m being self-aggrandizing. A scene in “Sixteen Candles” could be closer to the truth than anything I’ve yet written:
Jake Ryan: What do you think of Samantha Baker?
Meatheady friend: I don’t.
Perhaps you don’t think of me at all.
AubreySabala.com 
I enjoy reading your site daily. I think you are interesting and very articulate. I like hearing about your escapades because I have hung out at a lot of the same places you do before I got married and moved to the burbs.
I came across your site from a link on Sarah Hatter’s page. The first time I read your site I enjoyed it and I have been coming back ever since, and I think I am gaining on the one year mark. I think you’re funny and interesting and I think you have a great life. You love your job, your family and your friends and you love to have a good time. I say you’re someone who I would LOVE to be friends with if I lived anywhere near Atlanta. I say Aubrey, you’re my kinda gal!
Y’all are too sweet – and I promise I didn’t write this as a way to solicit compliments. I just really wonder if I give off an accurate impression of myself…
I came across your site because I’m moving to Atlanta and wanted to find other Atlanta bloggers.
I love it, and you seem like my kind of gal. You know, in a pretty and smart and snarky kind of way. If that’s accurate, then you got it.
As someone who stumbled here a year-plus ago, but who has never met you…I think of you as a attractive young woman who is very self-sufficient, an extremely talented writer and apparently a pretty good drinker.
Although you do seem to not realize that the hot person on Alias is Jennifer Garner.
What accent turns stronger? Midwest (Cleveland) or Suthin (Atlanta)?
Hey, Clevelanders don’t HAVE an accent. Radio broadcasters used to learn to speak like a Clevelander to sound “American” in the 1940s. Everyone ELSE has an accent.
Anyway, if you lived close enough I’d love to know you personally. You remind me of some of the creative, fun, interesting people who used to live here in Kent- who have all moved away to other states.
You help inspire me to keep writing by sharing your thoughts. I appreciate your intelligence and authentic spirit. So thanks for being you…
After checking in off and on for a month or so, my impression is of an open, interesting, and warm-hearted girl. Self-indulgent at times, but the benefits being an awareness that keeps you out of trouble; perhaps someone who hasn’t fully realized that the boys need to come to her and she need not worry. I have a vision of an independent, spunky girl who can whoop-ass across so many domains, but is still vulnerable and can be knocked off course by a boy or a snide remark, etc.
In short, a girl of passion, someone who has the capacity to be an encouraging and reliable friend, while also the source of spontaneous fun.
but above all, a learner in terms of reflecting on this whole human experience, which is cool.
you’re the person i want to be in 5 years.
…and you all are too, too kind.
Thanks.
Dunno. I should meet you and then answer.
Or not.
You rock. Always do.
You remind me of myself when I was your age, except you are much more eloquent. I think I am reliving my youth vicariously through you!
This post sounds an awful lot like that old sitcom staple joke. You know, the one where our hero/heroine is stuck with a date who has been blathering on for hours and hours. Narcissus finally comes up for air after a few ages have passed, chuckles softly, and drawls out “But enough about me…Tell me more about you. What do you think of me?”
A friend of mine happened across this site by accident and after nearly hurling on his keyboard, suggested I check it out. You must be the most self-centered bitch on the planet and based on your writings and photos, all I can ask is “Why?” Haven’t you figured it out? You’re a loser and nobody gives a sh** about you or your ridiculously shallow life!