When you get to be of my vast age, you spend a lot of time looking back... baaack... baaaaaaaack over your life. Some people feel a sense of accomplishment, some may feel regret, some may feel blessed over a life well lived.
I, on the other hand, always feel a vague sense of embarrassment.
I'm pretty sure that in those moments before I die, when one's life is supposed to flash before one's eyes, what I will be treated to is a rapid-fire slide show of myself walking through college campuses with my skirt tucked into the back of my panty hose, of me falling on my face in front of crowds of thousands, of me sitting on a steak knife, ripping my bathing suit bottoms in half, floating on my back in a public pool with my bathing suit top hanging uselessly around my waist, of me walking through a grocery store with a panty liner stuck to my pant leg...
And lest we forget, the millions upon millions upon millllllionssss of times that I stuck my foot in my mouth and yet managed to continue talking around it.
Some people learn from their mistakes.
I do not make mistakes. I just make a giant ass out of myself.
This may or may not have happened recently:
My landlord stopped by to check out a piece of laminate flooring that decided to spring forth and make a nuisance of itself in my kitchen. (And by "make a nuisance of itself" I mean that I have tripped over it and stubbed my toe on it literally every single time I go into the kitchen.) After he was done inspecting the rogue piece of flooring, he asked how I was enjoying living here in this tiny, piece of shit "village" in the "North Country."
Me: *carrying on at length about everything wrong with this area and possibly including words like "inbred" and "fashion backwards" and "Big M"*
Landlord: "You don't like the Big M?"
Me: *carrying on at length about everything wrong with the Big M, beginning with the stupid teensy tiny useless little midget shopping carts, shelf after shelf of pickled pig particles, and ending with the old bitch at the checkout counter*
Landlord: "My sister and brother in law owns the Big M. What checker are you talking about?"
Me: *praying mightily to choke on own tongue and die right then and there*
Oh, how I wish I would learn to think before I speak.
Oh, how I wish I'd never learned to talk.
Oh, how I know with absolute certainty that I will never shop at the Big M again.
Have you ever had a long conversation with a kind, genteel, polite older person and as you're walking away, wondered uneasily if you accidentally and unknowingly dropped the F bomb?
|Was it something I said...?|
Have you ever posted a status update on your Facebook page, totally blasting one of your in-laws, either past or present, and then remembered belatedly that they were actually on your Friend's list?
And then wondered why they hate you?
|In-law. But you didn't hear it from me. On Facebook. In my status updates.|
Have you ever gotten totally hammered at your husband's work's Christmas party and discussed loudly, obnoxiously and at length about the office tramp who was whoring around with the manager, only to realize belatedly that you were discussing her with... her?
Have you ever been on a date with a really cute guy that you were trying desperately to impress, and during drinks and chit chat, you find yourself laughing so hard that a fart slips out? And you hope to GOD no one heard it...
And then the next day, while he's hanging out at your house, he starts laughing?
And you say, "What's so funny?"
And he says, "For a such a little girl, you can sure rip a good one!"
Ahhh, sweet lips that never tell a lie...
(That totally didn't happen to me, by the way. It happened to a "friend." I swear. NOT. ME.)
|Did you know that turtles breathe through their butts?|
Have you ever whisper-gossiped with a friend about the extreme hideousness of another friend's outfit, only to find out later that the outfit was borrowed from the previous friend's closet?
Ummm... yeah. Me neither.
Speaking of Hell...
|I'm pretty sure this is the one I'm going to.|