Wacky Wednesday: What is Your Most Embarrassing Moment?

Da Hype 1

pink pantiesIt was my last year in High School, and our school had taken a trip to see the new movie on Malcolm X, starring Denzel Washington (Yep, I realize that I just dated myself). I can’t remember if this was sponsored by the Black Student Union or a class instructor required us to go. At any rate, I attended the field trip and even wrote about it later in the school newspaper.

What I remember most about attending this screening is what happened during intermission, when I had gone to the bathroom. I was wearing a plaid pink and black skirt and a super cute white blouse. I also had on black tights. I left the bathroom, switching, thinking about how cute I looked in that outfit.

Then, the fine usher who took my ticket when I entered the theater came running toward me, yelling something. I didn’t hear him at first; my cuteness was too loud for me to hear anything. It was as if I was strutting to the beat of a song made just for me and only I could hear the tune. The usher finally came close enough for me to notice that he was addressing me, so I stopped sashaying and reveling in how good I looked to hear what he had to say. I thought, “Oh, my God. He is going to ask me for my number!” I slowly turned around with my hands on my hips and a sweet smile on my face, tilting my head and allowing my hair to cover one of my eyes. I was eager to hear what he had to say. “Miss, your skirt is tucked into your tights,” he said.

“Excuse me?” I asked, hoping he would repeat himself. He was out of breath from trying to catch up to me and I didn’t hear what he said.

“Your skirt is tucked into your tights,” he repeated and this time, it seemed like he enunciated each syllable in slow motion.

I was horrified!! There, for the world to see, were my pink panties, showing through my black tights! I fixed my skirt and ran into that movie theater so quickly. I hid with the crowd when the movie was over, hoping to avoid EVER seeing him again.

Da Realist 1

Image courtesy of Keerati/FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

Image courtesy of Keerati/FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

Let me preface this by saying that I have never been very coordinated. While I was in college, no one in my sorority ever considered me step show material. But I understand. I can’t count the number of times that I have fallen down stairs, bumped into doors, and tripped over my own feet. My mother always said I was clumsy, and unfortunately that’s true.

I totally embarrassed myself a few years ago at a party. Da Hype 1 took me as her guest to party being given by one of her friends. It was one of those parties in which someone makes a presentation of their products (like candles or jewelry). Later, the guests have an opportunity to purchase some products, and the host gets a discount for having the party.

Well, it was a lovely little party, held upstairs in the hostess’ home. There were probably about 15 people there, most of whom I’d never met. The refreshments were downstairs in the kitchen, and I went down to get some. I helped myself to some chicken wings and Coca-Cola. As I was coming back up the stairs with my plate and cup in hand, I tripped. Yes, I fell up the stairs and landed facedown. It’s the kind of thing you laugh about. . .that is, if you’re not the one sprawled out on the floor. Chicken wings and pop were all over the place, all over this woman’s nice, white carpet. I was mortified, and I blushed, turning as red as a beet. (Yes, I turn red, and it’s NOT attractive.) I apologized profusely. As she spread carpet cleaner on the floor, Hype’s friend assured me that it was ok. I knew what everyone was thinking though, What a klutz. Yup, that’s me. I make one hell of a first impression.

Ok, 2 Dope Readers, we’ve shared our embarrassing moments. We’d love to hear yours.

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Wacky Wednesday: Most Memorable Birthday

What Was Your Most Memorable Birthday?

Image courtesy of tiverylucky/FreeDigital Photos.net.

Image courtesy of tiverylucky/FreeDigital Photos.net.

Both my mother and Da Hype 1 have birthdays in February–last week, in fact. So, of course, I’ve been thinking a lot about birthdays and presents. I’ve had a lot of great birthdays, but my most memorable birthday was my 13th.

My birthday is at the end of August, so that was usually right before school started or during the first week of school. For my 13th birthday, I had a birthday party with all my friends and some of my classmates in the backyard. I also invited a boy–I’ll call him “Chris”–that I secretly had a crush on. I’m pretty sure he never knew that though; I was always pretty shy around boys.

My mother ran into Chris’ mother in the store one day, and she asked what I’d like for my birthday. My mother, for reasons I still can’t comprehend, proceeded to tell her what I “needed.” What I needed, she said, was underwear. Yes, my mother thought it was appropriate for a 13-year-old boy to give a 13-year-old girl the gift of panties. By the way, neither Chris nor I was present at this meeting of the minds.

Fast forward to my birthday. I’m sitting at the picnic table opening gifts from my friends. When I got to Chris’ gift, I tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box to find variety 3-packs of girls’ cotton briefs. I was absolutely mortified! My face felt hot. I was blushing. I slammed that box top down as fast as I could, trying to keep the other boys and girls from seeing what was inside. I was never able to look Chris in the eye again.

In retrospect, this is all quite hilarious, but the 13-year-old me certainly didn’t think so. Recently, I asked my mother why she told a complete stranger to buy me underwear for my birthday. She answered, “Because that was what you needed.” Incredulously, she still doesn’t understand why it was such a bad idea. After that debacle, my mother was prohibited from throwing me any more parties. I haven’t had one since.

OK, 2 Dope Readers, I’ve revealed my childhood trauma. We’d love to hear about your memorable birthdays too. Non-traumatizing, happy memories are welcome!

What Do You Like Best/Least About Where You Live?

Da Hype 1

I have lived in a city outside of Nashville for almost 9 years now. I call it a city and not a town because I have been corrected by locals on numerous occasions in regards to how to categorize it. This “city,” while in the same area code as Nashville, boasts of being independent from Nashville in the ways in which its inhabitants live and function. True, I do not have to leave this city to go shopping or for entertainment. There are always plenty of events going on in and around the city. Yet, I still struggle with calling it a “city;” a major metropolis, it is not. As a friend once said about it in comparison to Washington, D.C., “everything I want and need can be found in _____,” the city where I live.

I’m not certain that I can say the same.

Anyway, the best/worst aspect about where I live is in the landscape.

Cotton Fields

Cotton Fields located within a mile from my house

On the one hand, I absolutely love the landscape. If I go in any direction outside of the city, I am surrounded by rolling hills. And, in the fall, I can find cotton fields within a mile of my home. The cotton fields evoke conflicting emotions: I find the rows and rows of cotton to be beautiful, and at the same time it is a reminder of a time before when black people toiled in those fields.

The worst aspect about living in the Nashville metropolitan area is that it is located in a

The Atlantic Ocean, Hilton Head, SC

The Atlantic Ocean, Hilton Head, SC

land-locked state. I grew up on the East Coast and visited the ocean often. When I met my husband, we made trips to VA Beach, Miami Beach, and the beaches in South Carolina every summer. Each time I go to the ocean, I take all of my worries and I throw them in the ocean.

Da Realist 1

Around the same time that I became an Iowa resident two years ago, Stephen G. Bloom, a journalism professor from the University of Iowa, published an article in The Atlantic,Observations From 20 Years of Iowa Life.” He discussed the Iowa Caucuses  and the state’s impact on electing a president. He also shared his impressions of life in Iowa, many of which were quite unflattering. Even though I had not been in Iowa very long, I thought much of his criticism was unfair. Not to worry though, he was roundly excoriated for his article and the inaccuracies therein.

Being from the rural South, I have a completely different perspective than Bloom, a New Jersey native who went to college at UC Berkeley. Farm life and “ruralness” are not strange or new to me. For me, the worst thing about living here in Iowa isn’t so much about the state as it is the distance from friends and family. I am 10 hours away from my best friend and more than 13 hours away from my mother, so taking a drive to visit them is “more than a notion.”

I felt out of place when I moved here, but at the same time, the people seemed awfully

Water cooler on the walking trail.

Water cooler on the walking trail.

familiar. They reminded me of Southerners–open, very friendly, and often chatty. Unsolicited, my downstairs neighbor bakes bread and cupcakes for me. As I take my walks, people in cars often wave as if they know me. A few months ago, I tweeted this picture. Someone had set up a cooler near the walking trail for people to get a drink of water. Who does that? It’s not the first time I’ve seen this, but it’s the first time I took a picture. Yes, friendly people are the best thing about Iowa.

Wacky Wednesday: What is Your Most Embarrassing Moment?

Da Hype 1

pink pantiesIt was my last year in High School, and our school had taken a trip to see the new movie on Malcolm X, starring Denzel Washington (Yep, I realize that I just dated myself). I can’t remember if this was sponsored by the Black Student Union or a class instructor required us to go. At any rate, I attended the field trip and even wrote about it later in the school newspaper.

What I remember most about attending this screening is what happened during intermission, when I had gone to the bathroom. I was wearing a plaid pink and black skirt and a super cute white blouse. I also had on black tights. I left the bathroom, switching, thinking about how cute I looked in that outfit.

Then, the fine usher who took my ticket when I entered the theater came running toward me, yelling something. I didn’t hear him at first; my cuteness was too loud for me to hear anything. It was as if I was strutting to the beat of a song made just for me and only I could hear the tune. The usher finally came close enough for me to notice that he was addressing me, so I stopped sashaying and reveling in how good I looked to hear what he had to say. I thought, “Oh, my God. He is going to ask me for my number!” I slowly turned around with my hands on my hips and a sweet smile on my face, tilting my head and allowing my hair to cover one of my eyes. I was eager to hear what he had to say. “Miss, your skirt is tucked into your tights,” he said.

“Excuse me?” I asked, hoping he would repeat himself. He was out of breath from trying to catch up to me and I didn’t hear what he said.

“Your skirt is tucked into your tights,” he repeated and this time, it seemed like he enunciated each syllable in slow motion.

I was horrified!! There, for the world to see, were my pink panties, showing through my black tights! I fixed my skirt and ran into that movie theater so quickly. I hid with the crowd when the movie was over, hoping to avoid EVER seeing him again.

Da Realist 1

Image courtesy of Keerati/FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

Image courtesy of Keerati/FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

Let me preface this by saying that I have never been very coordinated. While I was in college, no one in my sorority ever considered me step show material. But I understand. I can’t count the number of times that I have fallen down stairs, bumped into doors, and tripped over my own feet. My mother always said I was clumsy, and unfortunately that’s true.

I totally embarrassed myself a few years ago at a party. Da Hype 1 took me as her guest to party being given by one of her friends. It was one of those parties in which someone makes a presentation of their products (like candles or jewelry). Later, the guests have an opportunity to purchase some products, and the host gets a discount for having the party.

Well, it was a lovely little party, held upstairs in the hostess’ home. There were probably about 15 people there, most of whom I’d never met. The refreshments were downstairs in the kitchen, and I went down to get some. I helped myself to some chicken wings and Coca-Cola. As I was coming back up the stairs with my plate and cup in hand, I tripped. Yes, I fell up the stairs and landed facedown. It’s the kind of thing you laugh about. . .that is, if you’re not the one sprawled out on the floor. Chicken wings and pop were all over the place, all over this woman’s nice, white carpet. I was mortified, and I blushed, turning as red as a beet. (Yes, I turn red, and it’s NOT attractive.) I apologized profusely. As she spread carpet cleaner on the floor, Hype’s friend assured me that it was ok. I knew what everyone was thinking though, What a klutz. Yup, that’s me. I make one hell of a first impression.

Ok, 2 Dope Readers, we’ve shared our embarrassing moments. We’d love to hear yours.