by Max Brantley
I've been talking recently with Lauryn Smith about joining our community blog lineup. Writing under the tentative title of "Sex in the Little City," she's written several in advance, including one about her affinity for left-handers.
Lauryn also sings with a band, Almost InFamous. They played last night at Sticky Fingerz. And who should be in the crowd but the Arkansas native actor Wes Bentley, pictured here with Lauryn. He not only stars in her favorite movie, "American Beauty," he's also a lefty -- "if this tells you anything about my luck," she writes.
Her column on lefties is on the jump.
Before the column, you'll see a response from Laury to some of the outpouring of response her initial blog offering sparked.
LAURYN'S RESPONSE TO COMMENTS
-- Lauryn Smith
Those who know me well, or even partially, know I have a random affliction for left-handed boys. Boys who are not sought out. I meet them and they just happen to write with their left hands. Matter of fact, my version of "What's your sign?" tends to be "Are you left-handed?" Nine times out of 10, the answer is yes. In the beginning I thought this as weird, but after awhile weird turned to "okay, that's really weird," and now it's expected and only weird if the answer is no.
In my exploration of why I tend to be drawn to the lefties, I discovered this: Not only am I drawn to left-handed boys, I tend to be drawn to left handed PEOPLE. While reading my friend Heidi's "about me" section on MySpace, I found out she is also is a leftie. I was prompted to dig deeper, with the intention of finding out just how many of my friends are left-handed.
Since this research begins with MySpace, we'll start with my 32 top friends. Okay, actually one is a dog and two are bands. So we’ll say, out of 29 people, SIX are left-handed. That's 1 in 5. Check your top friends and tell me how many are left-handed. See? It's odd. Two of my four siblings are left-handed. That's 50%! How many of your siblings are left-handed? I also sing in an acoustic band. There are two of us. One of us (not me) is left-handed. Go figure.
Last night while at my friend Brett's house (who, might I add, is left-handed), we're all sitting around, commencing small talk, singing, playing guitar when John L. mentions being a leftie. Of course he is. Then Jason (his right-handed neighbor) asks if I am left-eye dominant. Yes, I am (imagine that).
Recently, while celebrating my friend Tina's birthday, I discover the drummer in the Scott Holt Band was rather cute. This notion was affirmed when apparently the other ladies seemed to be engaged in the same conversation about “the cute drummer." In true Lauryn fashion (especially after a few shots of tequila — a habit picked up from my good friend *AHEM* Chris M.), I walked up to him. His name’s Tyler and I made a bit of brief small talk before asking, "Are you left-handed?"
“Yeah, how did you know?” he responded, clearly baffled. “I mean, if I were playing guitar then that would make sense, but drums?"
“Oh, I just knew,” I said with a smile.
We still talk. He's still left-handed.
I cannot tell you how many countless incidents of that nature have occurred, but we'll stick with the number one billion. No, one billion plus one. I ran into a guy I sorta dated (and by sorta, I mean not really but kind of) while with my friend Kate (who is right-handed). I ask him the "Are you left-handed?” question and receive the same "Yes I am, how did you know?” answer. Kate and I, in unison, respond with, "Just knew."
Justin #2, whom I dated for a while? Left-handed. He later became my roommate — while Audrey, also left-handed, was living with us, as well. That's right—TWO left-handed roommates. Audrey became my roommate again in June, so that's still 50% of my roommates using their left hands to write.
Last month I moved into a new residence. I immediately notice a particular neighbor, Steven. He is illegally good looking. The kind of man that makes a girl st-st-stutter. We have since become friends (wink, wink) and I later learn that he too, is left-handed.
December 2007. Angie and Spencer introduce me to their friend from out of town. Flirting ensues. Half-heartedly, but whole-smartassedly, I tell him, "Yeah? Well if you're at least 6-foot-4, a Sagittarian, and left-handed… I'll kiss you." What are the odds, kids?
Odds are this: He's nearly 6-foot-5, his birthday is THAT VERY DAY (making him a Sagittarius), and you got it … he's left handed. He proves all three checkpoints. Gulp. I kissed him. Did I mention he was cute? And we occasionally keep in touch….
Speaking of birthdays, I just celebrated mine at a local restaurant with several friends. Our waiter was 6-foot-8 and left-handed. He was also my date the following weekend. He is my date for this Saturday, as well. To be continued….
My Chicago boyfriend, Jeremy (worthy of an entire chapter in the book of my life), is left-handed, too.
My sister Grace's boyfriend, Cody … left-handed. He's tall, too. Better watch out, Grace….
When walking through my memories I count 11 left-handed boys kissed. That I know of.
That. I. Know. Of. (Yikes!)
The left-hand connects to your left arm, which connects to your heart (the reason the wedding ring resides on the left ring finger). You can make an "L" with your left thumb and pointer finger, but you can't make an "R" with your right thumb and pointer finger.
I truly am envious of left-handed people. I'm not too proud to admit it. Creativity tends to be the stereotype surrounding left-handed people. Most are artistic on some level. It's "left-handed, right-brained," right? That, and I tend to be intrigued by the "abnormal." And let's face it, while disregarding the statistics of my life, the standard is writing with your right hand. All the more reason this haunting is so, well, eerie.