Tuesday, August 31, 2010

How Embarrassing!

One of the things I hate is being asked about my most embarrassing moment. I don't really have one. I know, it sounds impossible, because I have lived through millions of moments and one of them must be more uncomfortable than another, but while that's true I still can't think of one that really strikes me as mortifying.
Once in grade 2, Tammy pulled me across the floor by my arms and my tights donut-rolled all the way down to my knees. The whole class saw my bare butt. I guess that was embarrassing, but I'm sure I'm the only one who remembers it.

I think in grade 6 or 7 I got caught in a huge lie about having a boyfriend. I don't care much about that now.

Once, when a man was introducing himself to me, it took something like 4 tries for him to tell me his name, and then my husband had to translate for me. The guy spoke English! He was Scottish, his name was Stuart. This is how I remember it:
 Him: "Hi, Ahmshtrüuht." 
 Me: "Pardon?" 
 Him: "AhmSHTRÜUHT.
 Me: "Hee hee," I tittered both out of nervousness and in case he was making a joke of some sort. "Sorry, what did you say?" 
 Him: "AHHM SHTRÜÜUUURHT." 
 Me: *Deer-in-the-headlights*
 My husband: "HE'S STUART!"

So while those are all uncomfortable, I don't want to die rather than remember those times, and I don't blush at the thought of them. That only leads me to believe that, a) I have so many smallish embarrassing moments that I'm desensitized, or b) I have yet to live my Most Embarrassing Moment. 

Crap.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

I think this dream is a stand-alone on the blogging front:

I dreamt I was jumping over a candlestick, seriously. In my dream, I was serious about getting over that candlestick. 

...I know, right?