Posted On March 25, 2014 By In Miscellaneous

Cheer Up Now

 
 

Feeling forlorn about the weekend ending?  Did your dog just get hit by a car? Is March Madness making you, well, mad?   Do you just want to curl up and die in your Happy Meal that you bought just to cheer yourself up?  There is no faster way to regain composure and cheer than learning about another person’s embarrassing moments.  In the hopes of turning your frown upside down I would like to leave you with my four most embarrassing moments that I wish I was making up.

 

1.  Just Jelly Beans

In 5th grade before my class had completed our human sexuality unit – complete with the 1960’s set film, “Girl to Woman” –  my classmates lacked the knowledge of what a period was.  Apparently periods don’t care about curriculum relevance, and a pad packaged in bubble gum colored, crinkly paper fell out of my JanSport backpack one day and landed next to Philip Owen.  As the class clown, he had a voice louder than a Labrador.  He turned to me in the middle of our math lesson after picking the pad up, and said, “Hey, Allyson, you dropped this!”  I retrieved it from him and for the rest of that day he harassed me about what exactly that pink, crinkly-papered package was.  I was at a loss.  I couldn’t exactly say, “Hey, Philip that is something that I put in my day-of-the-week panties when my vagina is bleeding.  I told him it was a pack of jelly beans instead.  For the rest of the year he called me Jelly Beans.  This was especially great during P.E. when he would cheer me on during soccer.

Tasty.

Tasty.

 

2.  The Mole Mistake

While I was in college, a mole on my neck quadrupled in size in the span of two weeks.  A more reasonable person would have sought medical attention and had it removed immediately.  As someone who hates all medical related procedures, I ignored my friend’s suggestions to visit the campus health center to do so and continued living my life.  That weekend I went on a buffet lunch date to Fresh and Easy with a boy I had quite the crush on.  We climbed into the car post pig-out and he looked at me with the type of lingering look one exudes before a kiss.  I abandoned the action of buckling my seat belt and licked my lips in preparation as he came closer and stated “Hey, you have a piece of food on your neck.”   He then went to brush my mole, or what he thought was a chunk of food, off of my neck.  That was our last date.

Hey there!

Hey there!

 

3. Anderson Cooper asked me if I loved you

Dating in your early twenties, and especially dating men at that age who have the emotional intelligence of a piece of bacon, can prove to be particularly challenging.  After a few months of casually dating a man who read me Japanese death poems before bed and who shared his dessert with me, I was pretty sure I was in love.  I decided to do what any average twenty-something would do in that situation and I confessed my love for him via a mock interview with Anderson Cooper on my feelings for him.   Needless to say my feelings were not reciprocated.  I don’t know that there is a worse way to get rejected.

I guess not everyone finds him sexy.

I guess not everyone finds him sexy.

 

4. Password Problems

At my professional place of employment, a change in a computer system necessitated that all employees write down their passwords on a communal sheet of paper that was passed around throughout the department.  Wanting to maintain my reputation of shy, nice girl, I was especially horrified to admit and write my password which was,  poop334!  before passing it along to my manager.

password

 

5.  Father Faux Pas

My first serious boyfriend in college once called me a name that was not my own during an act that you would not want your mother or a priest to see.  No, it was not another woman’s name or that of a beloved porn star, or even a woman at all.  It was Dad.  Dad!  As in the burly and stern man that fathered him.  Talk about an injury  to your self-esteem.

embarrassed-girl-hand

Tags : , , , , , , , , , ,

Equally lovely and ferocious in nature, Allyson Darling resides in San Francisco. She writes nonfiction essays about sex, relationships, and pantries (and sometimes about having sex in pantries).