Embarrassing moments always make me think of those "Was My Face Red!" columns I used to read as a teenager... what magazine was that anyway?
I am by nature a shy, reserved person, and have tried to avoid situations that might cause embarrassment. But sometimes humiliation is unavoidable and maybe even necessary to learn life’s lessons. This week's "Triple Dare Tuesday" assignment is to share five embarrassing moments. So without further ado, read on, as I relive the agony:
Age 5, Kindergarten – When asked what I did in school that day I proudly announced, “Today we painted with Excess Paint.” My mother, an artist, seemed confused by my answer, but smoothly covered it over. Moments later, I realized that the teacher had actually said something like, “Be sure to blot off the excess paint before you start painting.” Even so young, I remember feeling terribly embarrassed by the misunderstanding. I embarrass easily and always have.
What I learned: Never state something as a fact, until you KNOW it’s a fact.
Age 13, Foxy Fliers NHCA Horse Show, Lincoln, Nebraska – I was in competition a bit above my ability. Most of the other riders in the English Equitation class had years more experience behind them, not to mention more money and pedigreed horses. Nevertheless, I boldly entered my little white pony, Tristan, in five classes that day, and this was the last. She was hot, sweaty and tired. The sand in the arena was too great a temptation. She stopped, dropped and rolled, with me on her back, slightly crushing my foot and totally crushing my self-esteem. While the other riders passed by condescendingly, I jumped up, gave her a swift kick in the butt, remounted, and finished the class. I left the arena red-faced and in tears. Ugh.
What I learned: Never get in too far over your head.
Age 15, Fiesta Cantina Restaurant, Lincoln, Nebraska – I was driving on a learner’s permit, out to eat with my mom and brother. Backing out of the parking space, I turned too sharply and grazed the car next to me. My brother, then 22, got out to look and found there really was no damage to the other car, so we went on home. We arrived at our house to find our driveway full of police cars. Someone inside the restaurant had seen and reported the incident. So, before I even had a license, I was busted with a “hit and run.” Nice.
What I learned: Always leave a note with your name and number before leaving the scene.
Age 17, Junior Year – My boyfriend and I were both taking Child Development class, and we had to carry an egg around with us to practice taking care of a baby. Therefore, we took our “twins” with us to a party one weekend, where we got into an alcohol-induced fight and I ended up, literally, with egg on my face. No, we didn’t stay together, and no, I never took my real babies to any parties. I don’t believe we told the teacher, either. We just got new eggs out of the fridge.
What I learned: Alcohol is dangerous. It has a Jekyll and Hyde affect on some people.
Age 20, My Wedding Day – All went well on our wedding day, until the (already tipsy) bride was “stolen” by the groom’s friends at the reception. I was taken (carried, actually -- at least they didn’t drink and drive) to a nearby bar and was convinced to try a new drinking game involving various shots of hard liquor. The last shot I remember drinking was my fifth – I think it was tequila. I have no memory whatsoever of the last few hours of this “most important day in my life,” though I never did pass out. Afterward, I was repeatedly assured that I had done nothing to embarrass myself in those hours, but who knows? Plus, it was my wedding day, for heaven’s sake! It was months before I got over the humiliation, and years before I could talk about it without crying.
What I learned: “Stealing the bride” is a stupid tradition.
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4 comments:
Heather,
I think I started a blog here awhile back, but didn't stick with it. Thanks for commenting on mine. I don't write anything very interesting, I guess, but maybe I can be inspired to greatness by reading yours. I am sort of writing about my quilting stuff, as a lot of the people who go there take my classes too, so I think they might be interested. I think I am wrong, but should probably keep it up just the same.
You embarrassing moments made me think of my first week of school, ever.....we went to parochial school, and went to church before school. Well, I had to sit in the corner every morning for the first week, I think, because I talked in church. Evidently I was a slow learner.......or maybe I really didn't sit there every day that week, it just seemed like it.
Anyway, fond???? memories?
Keep blogging....
Glad you could visit, Jean! I love reading about what other people are doing and making, especially seeing pictures. Just keep at it. I think it takes awhile to get any reegular readers, no matter what you write about. Besides, its a nice record even for yourself to see all you've been accomplishing!
Thanks for sharing your "fond" memories, too. lol My older siblings went to parochial school and I've heard some stories from them! Somehow I managed to miss out on that experience. ;o)
It was pretty much a good experience going to parochial school, I guess I just couldn't keep my mouth shut. The funny thing is that I grew up on a farm and didn't really know that many kids when I went to school so I am not sure who I was talking to. Maybe my cousin, we were good friends back then. Also my folks took us to church every week, so I knew how to behave in church.* Kids.....
There is a Was My Face Red Column in Woman's World magazine. I read it each time I buy one.
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