The Lord blessed me with another moment in my life that I would love to just forget.
So that is why I’m sharing it with the world.
I must be insane.
Tuesday afternoon at work I had to head on down to the little girl’s room. After that I was walking down the hall to return to my office. At this point I will tell you two things: a.) I work at a university so I’m walking down a hall with classrooms and b.) I was wearing a skirt and tights.
Do I even need to go any further with this story?
You’ve probably guessed it but if you haven’t here it is: my skirt was tucked into my tights. I always, I mean ALWAYS, check my backside after a trip to the bathroom. Somehow this little smidgen of my skirt decided to stay tucked in exposing my upper thigh to anyone walking behind me. As luck would have it only one person was behind me…as MY luck would have it is was a student that works for us in the office. And this student happens to be a shy guy. I feel really bad if my tighted, upper thigh is his first glimpse into the female form. *Shudder*
I mean, how do you recover from something so horrific like that?
I just pulled the skirt out and kept on walking. And I’ve avoided eye contact with that particular student worker ever since.
Thankfully for all of us there are no pictures of this particular event.
Anyone have an skirt tucking story that tops this one? Let me hear it to make my mind feel at ease!
Ok, moving on to two ladies who don’t mind exposing their hindside’s to anyone and everyone!
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Unfortunately I have no pictures to go along with this story…
You know the saying “Inconvenient things happen at inconvenient times”? No, you don’t? Well I may have just made it up.
Why I am sharing this with you I don’t know. It’s way too much information for you to know about someone you hardly even know.
When we were in Kansas City visiting my in-laws I got sick. Not like fun sick where you can lay around and watch tv and just veg, it was the kind of sick that had me running to the bathroom quite often.
I guess I deserve it. Not a month earlier I had been making fun of an anonymous friend (I’m sure she would want her identity revealed) for the exact same ailment. God always has his way of saying IN YOUR FACE when I mock others.
And as you would expect it was the busiest day of the trip–a football game and a trip to Dave and Busters. Long car rides and no breaks at home.
I have mastered the dreaded public depositing. Flush, push, flush, push…shuffle your feet…pull out toilet paper…conveniently cough… It’s a tricky game, but as a woman you can never, EVER be heard.
Luckily, after five Immodium, probably ten Tums, and a good nights sleep I was back and ready to eat and eat and eat.
Maybe here’s a couple of more pleasant images than the mental image I’ve given you.
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I’m confessing I don’t know how to spell nubby (or gnubby or knubby or bnubby or jnubby) I just don’t know. I barely knew how to spell werewolf. I left out the e.
In 6th grade I came in third place in a spelling bee behind two 8th graders. The word I got out on? Vulture. It’s a tough word, although for the life of me I can not think of how I could possibly misspell that word. I’m sure it was just nerves.
And it really has nothing to do with what I want to say.
Last night my friend Lauren and I were talking about things we were made fun of for both recently and in the past. Considering I had two older brothers who were relentless in making fun of me and a couple of recessive genes passed on to me (thanks mom and dad!) I was teased unmercifully. At least now that I’m older people don’t do it to my face, but we all know how it goes when you’re a kid. Kids have no filters. None. Zip. They let you know what’s wrong with you.
From about the time I was in kindergarten up until probably junior or senior year of high school I was made fun of for having hairy arms. Now there’s hairy arms and there’s what I had–HAIRY ARMS. Obviously my brothers made fun of me for it but they eventually grew tired of it and found more creative ways to get me. They moved on to making fun of my nubby toes. (Seriously I don’t think I have a joint in my toes they’re so small) But not kids at school. It would be werewolf or gorilla or “why are her arms so hairy?” It hurt. It hurt everytime I would hear someone whisper something about it.
But you know what? I’m a grown-up now. I’ve learned that a Venus razor is my best friend. And everyone from the past can suck it.
Speaking of hairy women…
I’m not sure what Sadie said to Lexi–but whatever it was, was not kind.
Anything you all were made fun of for that you care to share? Just to make me feel better about myself obviously!
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Awwww, vacation. I was given a few days off for Spring Break this past week. I have taken FULL advantage of them. I got sick on Saturday and yesterday was the first day I felt like a total, complete human being.
It’s nothing new getting sick the moment I have a free day (or few days). It’s just my luck and I’m sure I’m not the only one who has this luck. Although I should be completely caught up on sleep and I think I’ve watched enough HGTV to now be considered an interior designer.
My shining moment of the week came last night. Or I should say really, REALLY early this morning. I woke up soaking wet. In a puddle of water. In bed. It took me about five seconds to figure out what I had done. I’ve been coughing so badly that I have to keep a bottle of water next to me so I can soothe my throat. Well apparently I fell asleep with the bottle in my hand and managed to dump it all over me and my side of the bed. I quickly grabbed my pillow and jetted before I woke the hubby up. About ten minutes after I had gotten up he shoots out of the room looking for me—“That isn’t pee is it? Please tell me I didn’t just put my hand in pee.” I had to reassure him that if I would have peed myself I would have woken him up and, in total shame and humiliation, let him know it’s time to change the sheets. But now that I think about it, it’s pretty embarrassing to say you spilled water all over yourself too…
Who misses those sweet pups?
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First and foremost I want to thank you all for your condolences and sweet thoughts! Me, my husband, and his family really appreciate it!
There’s nothing better to do to get things off your mind than go BRA SHOPPING!! It’s a nice self-esteem booster–right up there with trying on jeans and bathing suits. Anyone else hate trying on bras? I DO NOT! Lauren and I headed out to Victoria’s Secret anyways to see if we could depress ourselves into oblivion.
Apparently my boobs and back have spawned into something out of this world because nothing, NOTHING fit. It didn’t help that it seems that the bra that I had been wearing for the last year (sick I know) had stretched and turned into some hybrid size–so I really had no idea what size i was. I was afraid to get fitted because I didn’t want the Victoria’s Secret lady saying, “I’m sorry we actually don’t carry 48 AA.” After the first round of bras (which none of them fit) I believe the terms “stuffed sausage” and “more rolls than a bakery” were thrown around.
Round two went a little better, I still had some sausage under the arm but I refused to go up a size. So I did what any normal girl would do-grabbed the bra that fit the best and skedaddled. In the end I went up a cup-size AND up a size around. Now don’t you feel like you know me a little bit better now? Lucky you!
Could you imagine having to buy a bra for EIGHT boobs?
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Do you ever have one of those moments in a friendship that you for sure know everything there is to know about your friend? Then they drop a bombshell that totally catches you off guard? That happened the other night!
I have this friend (we’ll leave names out because it’s really not important) and we were talking and somehow tampons got brought up (if you’re a man you might as well stop reading for your own good). And out of no where she hit me with the shocking news that she didn’t flush the tampon, not the applicator, the tampon. I was shocked but she was actually more shocked that I DID flush it!
Am I crazy? Am I the only one that flushes them? When I used to use carboard applicators I flushed those too!
I mean we had to make a decision right then and there that we were going to continue to be friend regardless of tampon differences.
Let’s roll that beautiful bean footage…
Yes, I realize these are pictures from the snow day-but I haven’t had a chance to take new pics!
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So I may be a little bit psychotic when it comes to the dogs. I was at WalMart Saturday not only to get donuts but my main purpose was to buy the dogs blankets. I was under the impression that they were getting cold at night. I assumed that since their ears and nose were a little chilly that it must mean they’re shivering uncontrollably at night without some sort of covers. I actually went so far as tucking them in last night…oh my gosh I’m so sad!
Aren’t they just precious all snuggled in their blankets? By the way don’t ever wash a red fleece blanket with a green fleece blanket. You’ll end up with multi-colored blankets. And I didn’t intentionally buy Christmas colors but since every store has abandoned regular merchandise for Christmas merchandise I had no choice. (I’m pretending to complain but deep down inside I’m thinking YIPEE it’s almost Christmas!)
Please just ignore the random clothing laying around in my living room…
If the gunk in Sadie’s eye is bothering you–don’t worry it’s bothering me ten times more–“You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from the other person’s eye.” God knew what he was talking about…
All I’m thinking right now is–Oh my gosh I can’t believe I wrote a post about blankets. This is the saddest excuse for anything ever…
I’ve found out what causes weird dreams for me! READING! I think reading right before bed makes my mind open up a new portal that’s almost like taking a drug. My imagination just runs wild!
AND–I am seeing Twilight opening night–anyone else?? I am going to have to take a pen and notebook because I have a feeling there’s going to be a LOT of blog material that night.
Ok, I promise that if tomorrow all I have to write about is something about a pot holder I’ll spare you…
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