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Stories are good.
Have another.
This may or may not shine through on livejournal, but it's a scientifically proven fact that in real life, I am the most embarrassing person alive. This mostly stems from the fact that I completely lack what they call "impulse control." That might not be entirely true, because I don't like, throw myself in front of busses and shit, but I do tend to say and do really stupid, weird and generally embarrassing things approximately once every 15 seconds. I don't think about things before saying or doing them, or I try to express a thought that hasn't yet completely formed in my brain and end up speaking as if I have some kind of disorder because I don't know what the hell I'm saying, what comes next, or what my point is, so I just kind of babble and stumble over my words in an attempt to save face but just end up making it worse. Or just say things that make absolutely no sense. Or like, mumble things to myself because I'm insane and some day I hope to own 30 cats and collect old newspaper. But anyway, I constantly do and say stupid things and then kick myself seconds to hours later when I realize I'm an idiot.
In summary, I'm the most embarrassing person alive. Which kind of sucks, because I'm embarassed pretty easily.
This is the story of the most humiliating thirty seconds of my life.
When I was in first or second grade, my dad took me to an Eagles tent party. There were two tents that were seriously like ten times the size of my fucking house, in someone's backyard (I don't know how that worked either. Just take my word for it.) There were big-screen TVs like every 2 feet, because there was some kind of Massively Important Eagles Game and people around here are really crazy about their football (cue eagles chant).
I remember the day very distinctly. It was cold, and the ground was covered in snow. Outside the tents, some kids had built a fucking honest-to-god igloo, so this was also the most jealous day of my life. I don't know if all little kids were like this, but I always desperately wanted to, you know, build an igloo, or a snow tunnel, or one of those huge snow fort barricade wall things that kids on TV had. All of which are more or less impossible. I was also sick, because at some point I threw up and got sent inside the house to lay on the couch where I was forced to watch Barney sing about peanut butter and jelly, which made me even more sick to my stomach because I fucking hated Barney.
But at some point after or between wanting to smash some kids' igloo and puking in the snow, a news crew showed up. Because, you know, there's a ridiculous amount of hype surrounding this game, and someone's having a party with two tents that are each the size of Rhode Island, let's go to the party and do a quick hype piece there. So there's a news crew wandering around the tents, and apparently when my dad slipped on a pepper in 1980 and had to have major leg surgery, he shared a hospital room with Steve Levy, the newscaster who happened to get this ridiculous assignment. I guess they're filming live at this point, and my dad picks me up, and Steve Levy wanders over saying something along the lines of, "hey it's my old pal rae's dad, we shared a room in a hospital back in 1980, how about them eagles?"
I happened to be wearing an Eagles beanie. So I was in my dad's arms while he was being pseudo-interviewed, and I decided that my forehead was cold, or wanted to show off my cool Eagles beanie, or was adjusting it because it was my dad's and adult sized and probably all stretched out and I was a 7 year old girl, or who fucking knows what, but the point is that I went to pull it down a little further. Except I was obviously on crack because I pulled it down too far, as in, I had a fucking beanie completely covering my face. I panicked. "Oh no," I thought. "I'm on the fucking news and I have an Eagles beanie covering my face. What do I do?" Aha! I then remembered that the beanie I was wearing happened to be a style that had an eagle's face on it. So, you know, I'll just play it off like it's actually an Eagle mask and not a fucking beanie. So I just left it there. On my face. The entire time. While on live television that, knowing my luck, everyone in the area who wasn't in those goddamn tents was probably watching at that moment.
I can't even imagine how many people saw it and just thought, "what the hell is wrong with that little girl? the poor thing, she must be mentally retarded."
I probably should have just thrown myself in front of a bus shortly afterwards.
I don't think I've ever told anyone this story, nor mentioned to my dad what happened while we were on the news, so anyone who has read this should feel special.
I hope that by sharing, I'll someday be able to recover from such a traumatic childhood experience.
thank you.
rae
Have another.
This may or may not shine through on livejournal, but it's a scientifically proven fact that in real life, I am the most embarrassing person alive. This mostly stems from the fact that I completely lack what they call "impulse control." That might not be entirely true, because I don't like, throw myself in front of busses and shit, but I do tend to say and do really stupid, weird and generally embarrassing things approximately once every 15 seconds. I don't think about things before saying or doing them, or I try to express a thought that hasn't yet completely formed in my brain and end up speaking as if I have some kind of disorder because I don't know what the hell I'm saying, what comes next, or what my point is, so I just kind of babble and stumble over my words in an attempt to save face but just end up making it worse. Or just say things that make absolutely no sense. Or like, mumble things to myself because I'm insane and some day I hope to own 30 cats and collect old newspaper. But anyway, I constantly do and say stupid things and then kick myself seconds to hours later when I realize I'm an idiot.
In summary, I'm the most embarrassing person alive. Which kind of sucks, because I'm embarassed pretty easily.
This is the story of the most humiliating thirty seconds of my life.
When I was in first or second grade, my dad took me to an Eagles tent party. There were two tents that were seriously like ten times the size of my fucking house, in someone's backyard (I don't know how that worked either. Just take my word for it.) There were big-screen TVs like every 2 feet, because there was some kind of Massively Important Eagles Game and people around here are really crazy about their football (cue eagles chant).
I remember the day very distinctly. It was cold, and the ground was covered in snow. Outside the tents, some kids had built a fucking honest-to-god igloo, so this was also the most jealous day of my life. I don't know if all little kids were like this, but I always desperately wanted to, you know, build an igloo, or a snow tunnel, or one of those huge snow fort barricade wall things that kids on TV had. All of which are more or less impossible. I was also sick, because at some point I threw up and got sent inside the house to lay on the couch where I was forced to watch Barney sing about peanut butter and jelly, which made me even more sick to my stomach because I fucking hated Barney.
But at some point after or between wanting to smash some kids' igloo and puking in the snow, a news crew showed up. Because, you know, there's a ridiculous amount of hype surrounding this game, and someone's having a party with two tents that are each the size of Rhode Island, let's go to the party and do a quick hype piece there. So there's a news crew wandering around the tents, and apparently when my dad slipped on a pepper in 1980 and had to have major leg surgery, he shared a hospital room with Steve Levy, the newscaster who happened to get this ridiculous assignment. I guess they're filming live at this point, and my dad picks me up, and Steve Levy wanders over saying something along the lines of, "hey it's my old pal rae's dad, we shared a room in a hospital back in 1980, how about them eagles?"
I happened to be wearing an Eagles beanie. So I was in my dad's arms while he was being pseudo-interviewed, and I decided that my forehead was cold, or wanted to show off my cool Eagles beanie, or was adjusting it because it was my dad's and adult sized and probably all stretched out and I was a 7 year old girl, or who fucking knows what, but the point is that I went to pull it down a little further. Except I was obviously on crack because I pulled it down too far, as in, I had a fucking beanie completely covering my face. I panicked. "Oh no," I thought. "I'm on the fucking news and I have an Eagles beanie covering my face. What do I do?" Aha! I then remembered that the beanie I was wearing happened to be a style that had an eagle's face on it. So, you know, I'll just play it off like it's actually an Eagle mask and not a fucking beanie. So I just left it there. On my face. The entire time. While on live television that, knowing my luck, everyone in the area who wasn't in those goddamn tents was probably watching at that moment.
I can't even imagine how many people saw it and just thought, "what the hell is wrong with that little girl? the poor thing, she must be mentally retarded."
I probably should have just thrown myself in front of a bus shortly afterwards.
I don't think I've ever told anyone this story, nor mentioned to my dad what happened while we were on the news, so anyone who has read this should feel special.
I hope that by sharing, I'll someday be able to recover from such a traumatic childhood experience.
thank you.
rae