wow, you opened comments back up. awesome...

why the change?

I was going up the escalator, coming out of the subway station, during morning rush hour. While I was standing there, I felt something slip down my leg. I have no idea what it is, so I shake my leg and look down, What do I see? A pair of my underwear rolls out of my pant leg onto the foot of the guy behind me....

Apparently, static cling worked its evil magic and the undies had been clinging to the inside of my pant leg all morning.

I just pretended it didn't come from me and just walked away --- very quickly.

I once called one of my teachers a lesbian and she was standing right behind me. She and I had to have a serious conversation about sexuality, even though I'm gay and I've been there. It was awful.

Happy Birthday, Lady Dooce.

until i actually got it, i thought that when you were on your period you just peed blood, and that's why you had to wear 'diapers'....yeah.

When I was a teenager, I played the side drum in a marching bagpipes band. Yeah, I know, dorksville. But it was fun.
Anyway, one day we were waiting our turn to march in an Australia Day parade. All the different floats and marching bands were on this huge sports oval, and as each group joined the parade, they would march down the middle of the oval, then out onto the road where the parade was.
Anyway, I am stuffing around with my friends when I hear my evil nemesis, Country Music. I turn around to see that the next "float" is a truck with a Country and Western band on the back of it, and behind and in front of the truck is boot scooters. Being a teenager, and a bitch, I start to heckle. I am slapping my thigh, and screaming yeah-hah, while all my friends laugh. I am so loud and raukous that everyone on the oval is looking at me. So to take the heckiling up a notch, I jump into the air to click my heels. Just as the heels are clicking, a gust of wind blows my kilt up around my face, leaving my HOT PINK undies for all to see. I die of embarrassment, EVERYONE ELSE dies of laughter.

Office Christmas Party. Skirt caught up in my waistband after I went to the bathroom right after I arrived. Nobody told ME about it until the next day. Then EVERYBODY thought I should know.

I think my most embarrassing moment revolves around farting at school too. I was in the tried grade and we were having an indoor recess because of bad weather. I was working a puzzle off to the side and out of nowhere I farted *incredibly* loud. They all laughed at me and I'll admit, I cried a little. Cut me some slack on the crying; I was eight!

Similar to Alex, I was at a business meeting when a colleague sneezed. Trying to be a gentleman I offered her the handkerchief that was in my suit pocket.

Unfortunately, it wasn't a hanky after all, but instead they were my fiance's pantyhose which she took off at a wedding reception ("These things ARE KILLING ME!") and gave to me to put in my pocket. I had a hard time explaining why I had an extra pair of nylons in my suit pocket.

Blog-related and VERY recent:

I started seeing this guy here in Europe and through his blog found his girlfriend's blog (what! girlfriend?) back in the States and started to read it almost obsessively. Then the other day I found a post on her site about me obsessively lurking- she had tracked me through statcounter. Yikes! So I revealed myself and now we're like, friendly, so whatever. But still.

Also: farted during a performance review at a job, years ago. Loud, but not stinky.

I was not exactly the best athlete in high school, but I did like to try. I played soccer as a freshman...During one game a ball went flying into the air with an arc that made it clear I was going to have to try to get it with my head. The really unfortunate thing was that the ball and I were going to have to do this right in front of the bleachers, which were packed with people - including BOYS. Well, the inevitable happened: I jumped up to head the ball, and missed it entirely, which is probably one of the most awkward looking movements known to man. While the people in the bleachers laughed I tried to run it off like I wasn't embarrassed. As Miss Heather probably knows, it is damned tough being a gangly tall teenage girl (but we get some benefits out of it later, don't we Dooce?).

I was teaching a class when I was a graduate student. After class, one of my students came up to me:

"Ms. Blanchard, you know how you told us to tell you if you ever got chalk on your face?"

"Yes?"

"Well, your skirt's not zipped all the way up."

I reached around to my butt and zipped my skirt up. The good news is that I had on underwear. The bad news is that it was some of my ugliest granny bloomers I owned, white with little blue flowers on it.

That was about 5 years ago. I always check my zipper before class. (My husband just pointed out that before we were married and he was visiting me in NC from LA, I walked around the airport with my skirt tucked into my thong.)

Honestly, I have tons of embarrassing moments. Like milking my own boob at work on Friday because I forgot my breast pump. The butt trumps the boob though because I didn't milk my boob in class or in an airport.

Here's two for the price of one, both from high school because, you know, that's when you do the most embarrassing stuff. Anyway.

There was a very, very, very hot and young teacher in my highschool, Mr. D. Almost every hormonal high school girl had a crush on him. One day, in a hurry (as I often was--I was constantly flattening people against the lockers as I tore through the hallways), I blazed by the Guidance office door just as Mr. D was coming out. Not only did I body slam him, but also, red with embarrasment and trying to run away, I realized that I had my wrist stuck through the lanyard on his keychain, which was hanging out his back pocket. Read as: my wrist was on his ass.

#2: a ski story, to follow the theme: I had an epic crush on a boy named Adam from about fourth grade until sophomore year of high school. In eighth grade, we were on a school ski trip and waiting for the chair lift to go up the measly mountain. I stepped forward, but for some unknown reason, Adam hung back. Maybe he wanted to wait for someone else, maybe he just didn't want to ride with me, but I decided I would wait, too. I sidestepped, thinking I'd avoiding the path of the chair. Next thing I knew, I was flat on my face, the incoming chair having RUN ME OVER. They had to stop the lift, then Adam and I had to ride up the mountain together and it was not romantic at all.

Happy anniversary!

This is probably not the most embarrassing moment, but for some reason the most memorable. When I was about 10 I was a cheerleader on one of those squads for kids. It was already pretty embarrassing that I was the tallest and largest girl on the squad. Anyway, we had to do this cute little cheer where we kicked our leg up in the air. In a 10 year old pure adrenaline rush I kicked as hard as I could and my shoe flew off and ended up hitting someone in the stands.

As a preteen, I took gymnastics. I was pretty good and could do back handsprings and eleven thousand cartwheels in a row.

Most of the girls in my gymnastics class had slim, athletic bodies.
They didn't bother wearing a bra under their t-shirts to class, so I figured I shouldn't have to, either. This was a mistake because I had boobs.

During mat practice, I ran across the mat and turned a cartwheel. My t-shirt flew up, exposing my chest to the entire gymnasium.

My instructor, a man whose name I have blocked from memory since that day, said, "Hey, Danielle, you might want to think about WEARING A BRA TO CLASS FROM NOW ON!"

If I knew the word "motherfucker" back then, I'm sure I would have called him one.

Instead, I ran to the locker room, sobbing, and never returned. It was the worst, most embarrassing moment of my life and I still have boob issues to this day because of it.

Over the years, though, I've honed the skill of embarrassing myself in public to a fine art form.

I was at Costco w/ my hubby browsing through the books, completely unaware of my surroundings. Without looking up, I moved closer to my husband who was nearby and gently leaned my head on his shoulder.

Problem: It wasn't my husband. (!) Unbeknownst to me, my real hubby had gone around the isle of books and was now at the opposite end, on the other side of the store!

The man I had just gotten cozy with jumped 3 feet into the air, looked at me like I had the plague, said "You've completely lost it lady!" and fled.

If no one else had witnessed this, I probably could have laughed my way out of it, but *several* people, including my hubby saw the whole thing and laughed their asses off.

I was completely mortified. This happened over 15 years ago but to this day, whenever I think about it, I do a little heebie dance inside.

*shudder*

In other more happy news: Happy Blogiversary, Dooce! Here's to many, many more!

Having to speak at commencement in the fall. Or, well, thinking my partner had the speech and she thought I had the speech and well, no one had the speech. I had to run off stage in front of 400 of my peers, teachers and parents... And then the VPs made fun of me on the microphone.

At least I'm not afraid of public speaking anymore...

I was taking a night class to learn Spanish and of course, I was at home until the last minute doing the homework that was due, so I was in my flannel pajama pants (they were cute, which is my excuse for wearing them out of the house). My period chose that evening to start and I didn't have any protection. I was called up to the board to do some exercises and let's just say the professor sent me home at the break to change.

Happy VD Day!

I was at a play one day with my Mom ('My Fair Lady', if memory serves, this was about 15 years ago) and when I used the ladies' room at intermission, one side of my g-string broke. No big deal, I just threw them away and went commando for the rest of the afternoon.

After the show we went out to eat. I parked the car and waited at the crosswalk for the light to change. Waved at Mom, waited, waited. Big gust of wind came up and blew my skirt up over my head. My Mom and every single car waiting at the light saw EVERYTHING.

I'd have to say my most embarrassing moment happened when I was in 5th grade. It was common practice for me and my closest girl friends to go to the bathroom so that we could privately talk. So, it wasn't strange for one of us to say "Hey, want to go to the bathroom?" (Typing that out now is a bit embarrassing in itself.) One day I was talking with a boy named Kevin that I had a HUGE crush on. I tried to ask him if he wanted to go to the library, but "do you want to go to the bathroom" came out instead. M O R T I F I E D!

I was in kindergarden and I had a fear of certain black things. (Bizarre, but it made sense to a 5-year-old.) The big black drain at the bottom of the deep end swimming pool we went to, for instance, and...black toilet seats.

I had to pee but was terrified of the black toilet seat at school, so I held it. I was waiting in line for the bus to go home, in front of half my bus, when I couldn't hold it anymore. I think I was wearing a skirt, and so I ended up peeing on the sidewalk, basically.

I pretended like nothing had happened, got on the bus, and went home. Must've been pretty damn embarassing though if I still remember it 20+ years later...

i got married in Oct...and the fart thing is still new....however powerful..if you can do that!
You have secured a great mariage-- in my opinion!

November of 2003, I was on a plane that was heading towards the Middle East as I was in the Air Force at the time.
The flight was showing some boring movies and I was thinking I should probably take a nap. I drifted off to sleep only to have a horrifying dream. In my dream, my mother was a vampire and trying to kill me. She kept trying to attack me. I guess the dream got to me because I woke up while being shook by the flight attendant. Apparently, I began screaming bloody murder in my sleep and was scaring the other passengers.

I was mortfied.

Last semester in one of my english classes we had to give a group presentation. I was so nervous that I burst into tears in front of the entire class. My professor excused me from doing my part and let me leave to calm down. Luckily my part of the presentation was really small and not very important to the whole so I didn't fuck over my groupmates. We did end up getting an A. But I never wanted to go back to that class after that.

with me being the clumsiest person in the world i have a few.
but the one i can remember the most is i was in junior high or middle school as some people call it. and well i was sick for about a week and i was sneezing alot.. and my stomach hurt. so! in class i sneezed so hard that i farted and the ENTIRE class started to laugh .

I had just started seeing this guy that was attending the same summer program at an urban college as I was. We spent the weekend at the Cape and came back early on Monday morning. Before taking pre-class naps, we decided to get bagels and drinks and eat outside. I bought a bottle of juice and put it beside me, outside of the range of my peripheral vision. We were talking and I reached behind me to pick up the juice and shake it before drinking it, completely forgetting that I had opened it when I set it down. As I brought it around my body and shook the bottle, I soaked him completely in fruit juice.

I? Emerged entirely unscathed.

It was not a good moment.

I'm not sure it's the *most* embarrassing thing I've ever done, since it was 12 years ago, but it sure sucked then...

I was in the 4th grade and playing on the jungle gym. I was hanging by my knees upside down and went to flip over, but I forgot that my hands were hanging and not holding on the the bar... naturally I smacked face-first into the ground, bashing my nose in the dirt. It didn't break, but it bled like a mofo... I had a huge brown scab for almost a month, during which time I was photographed for the local paper for an art exhibit my class had done. We made paper mache' dinosaurs. I still have that brachiosaurus somewhere in the basement, along with the picture of me in my 'brown-nose' phase... heh heh.

I had my very first boyfriend in 9th grade, and I was over at his house for the first time, and I was feeling jittery and nervous. When I first walked into his kitchen, his dog started sniffing my crotch like there was no tomorrow. In my head I think to myself, "He must smell my cat." Out loud I say, "Do you smell my pussy?"

I cannot believe I am going to tell this story.

In university, I had a pretty small private dorm room. I had a little area with a sink and closet where I did most of my nightly preparations, had my closet and garbage can and whatnot, and dumped most of my clothes on the floor. One day I grabbed a shirt from the pile and ran into the common laundry room to iron it. There were a couple of girls in there already so we started chatting as I put the shirt on the ironing board, until I noticed the looks of horror on their faces. I looked down to the ironing board where my shirt lay.. with a used panty liner stuck to it for all the world to see. It must have been in the garbage can by the clothes pile. Gaaah.

Pregnancy’s most embarassing moment
October 08, 2004

I had a doctors appointment yesterday, and like every other one so far - there was the weighing in, the blood pressure, the asking questions and the directions for blood tests and what not inbetween this and my next appointment.

Everything is hunky dory, the doctor is about to come in and meet us and see if we have any additional questions. Well before he came in I asked the nurse about some girly things pertaining to my girly things and she suggested we have the doctor “take a look” just to ease my mind.

Ok, no big deal … I’ve done this before - I’m not nervous.

But then it happens, I’m laying on this bed with my butt hanging out in mid air and my feet hoisted in these stirrup things - and like a small wind passing in the field, I let one go.

Not just any piece of gas I keep stuck up there, I let the little airy one out - the one that makes noise like a creeky door upon exit because I’m trying my darndest to keep it up there without moving anything so the doctor won’t know I’m squirming for my dignity.

Lets just take a moment shall we?

I farted in my doctors face.

And then because I didn’t know what to do - I started laughing. Out loud. Like a school girl.

I wanted to pee my pants I was so embarassed.

When the teacher was handing out the locker assignments the first day of ninth grade, I was sitting in the back by these two cute girls who were chatting about their summer vacations. One of them had one some nice smelling perfume and it really got my attention -- if you know what I mean. When my name was called, I had to walk up to the front of the class with a lump in my jeans. I shoved my hands in my pockets and tried desperately to hide it to no avail. I could hear everyone snickering and whispering behind me. I had to take a hand out of my pants to get the lock. I swear I heard a gasp. Maybe it was in my mind, maybe it wasn’t. I quickly shoved the lock into my pants and walked back to my desk with my gaze not raising above the grain of the carpet.

I once put laundry detergent in the dishwasher.

For the record: it bubbles over and spills out on the floor.

I can fall UPstairs.

A good friend who was also a neighbor had called and invited me over for coffee and gossip. Happy to be out of the house I strode confidently, chin up, shoulders back, smile wide, across the street. Just bebopping on over, a spring in my step and happy to be alive.
I crossed through the dew dampened grass in my sandals, enjoying the feel of the cool moisture against my toes.Without a pause in my pace I hopped onto the first of five steps up to her door. And all that lovely damp dew on my shoes had my shoe, with my foot firmly inside, sliding down the edge of the step even as I was stepping to the next stair with the other. In a jumble of flying limbs I managed to crest the stairs, finally stopping with a LOUD thump of my head against the door. Sitting with my legs dangling down the stairs.
My friend opened the door with the statement "Oh honey you don't have to knock."
My neighbors, who had been gardening and gotten the whole show, said it was the best prat fall they'd ever seen.
Just one of many "I'm a bigger clutz than Jerry Lewis ever tried to be" moments.

I had been dating this guy for a while, and yes we were sinners, and I thought I was totally falling in love (but that's not why we were sinning -- I sinned with a lot of guys I didn't think I was in love with). One morning after waking up and sinning, he asked me if something was starting for me. I thought he was asking if my feelings for him were becoming serious... so I cuddled up to him, made the sexiest-nice-girl-the-kind-you-want-to-take-home-to-mom-and-then-rip-her-clothes-off face I could muster and then said "Yes, I think so"... All along, he was talking about the fact that I had started my period. We ended up married but only for 10 months. That J-Lo style marriage was pretty damn embarrasing too now that I think about it!

My family has a knack for embarrassing each other and I must say I rather enjoy it when I'm not the one being picked on.

I was probably most embarrassed when I was 12 years old, and my charming father told all my friends at my birthday party that I wanted to grow up to be a "sexpert", since my report card stated my glowing marks in the sex ed unit of health class.

HOWEVER being from the mean and teasing Roberts family, I do have to tell my sister Hilary's best story.

Hilary was about 9 years old and decided she was big and strong enough to climb the neighbours wire fence with them! Why, she could even do it in a skirt, god damn it, because she was an amazing gal.

She got halfway over the fence before she fell headfirst, but her underwear got caught on the fence. So instead of plummeting to the ground, she hung there by her ripped underwear waistband, her shining little bum there for all her friends to see.

The best part is there is a soccer field directly behind our houses, and two teams of men were playing.

She stopped the game with her full moon.

I have never laughed at her so hard in my life.

I was 18 years old and doing a long term housesitting job for a family. They had a horrible, horrible dog that was completely out of control. One morning I was in the shower when I heard a noise out in the living room. I thought it was the dog, so I rushed out, totally naked, and found a neighbor guy IN THE LIVING ROOM. He just started yelling at me that the dog was out. I was completely naked and was a good little Christian girl so was totally mortified. Now that wouldn't phase me much, but at the time it was so embarassing I thought I would die.

1. I let out a silent fart in the mall with my 10th grade boyfriend, only to realize it was the most disgustingly smelly fart of my entire life. To this day (I'm 27 now) I haven't let anything worse-smelling out of my bottom.

2. Spending an entire afternoon with a group of new neighbors with my fly down. I hate to even claim this one because I'm still floored that no one had the balls to tell me.

3. Totally had my skirt tucked into my pantyhose one night when I was waiting tables in college. I think every woman does this once, but I like to whine about my turn because it lasted 30 minutes or so, and AGAIN no one told me. After that I had to start accepting the fact that I'm unapproachable.

My junior year of college I was sitting in the same classroom in the same class with the same professor but in a slightly different seat than I had exactly one year prior. You see, my sophomore year I spent the first semester absolutely miserable in Genetics, Organic Chemistry, Statistics, and Shakespeare to 1600 (actually the Will Shakespeare class was awesome, the other three kicked my ass.)

So there I was, one year older and a little wiser and comfortably settling into my non-biochemistry degree. Alas, this still meant I had to take Statistics and try to improve my grade from that humiliating C- I got last year.

Little did I know that C- would have only been humiliating to me had I not decided to improve my grade.

I sat in that class on that first day and after the syllabus was handed out the professor stops and peers at me through his thick glasses. In a very thick Indian accent he points at me, in front of 35 other sophmores, and proclaims, "YOU. You look very familiar!"

I shrank about three inches in my seat and if I had testicles at this point they would have retracted into my body cavity. I muttered, "Yes." He spat back, "Ah you took this class before didn't you? And now you are back to do better, yes?"

And never in my life had I felt so humiliated as when this tenured professor with his incredibly thick Indian accent calling me on my stupidity in front of 35 other people.

One hot summer day I was at an outdoor concert, drunk and having a great time. I went to use the outhouse and before I sat down (I HAVE to sit down) I lined the seat with toilet paper. I was sweaty and the toilet paper clung to my ass. Being drunk, I forgot that I was sitting on sweaty toilet paper and finished my job and zipped my shorts up. There I went, trotting off to the beer vender with a white toilet paper tail sticking out of my shorts, and about 150 people standing in line for the Satellite, laughing their heads off....

Last year, as I was on my way to the post office, I was stopped at a red light, facing north, waiting impatiently to cross though the intersection as it was two days before my dad's birthday and I had completely forgotten to mail him a gift. Let it be known that I was distracted that day, and not paying very close attention to my surroundings. Eventually my light changed to green, but the east-/west-bound traffic kept going, despite their now red signal. I was the first car in the line, so I wasn't quite sure what to make of this. Naturally, like any impatient urban dweller with access to a horn, I started honking and gesturing angrily at the passing cars. "IT'S A RED LIGHT!!!" I shouted, as I honked some more at these people who seemed to be oblivious to all nationally recognized road signals. "WHAT THE HELL???" I yelled, and pointed at their red light. The passengers in the slowly passing cars just looked at me blankly and shook their heads. I made eye contact with the driver next to me and, again, gestured like, "Can you believe these people!?" That's when he rolled down his window and said, "IT'S A FUNERAL PROCESSION."

Pregnant with my son, ended up in the ER due to a little bit of spotting. Was sent away to do a pee sample in a cup and told to bring it back for the Doc to check. Filled the cup FULL, walked back to the cubicle, stumbled, and cup went flying and landed ALL OVER THE DOCTORS FACE.

After a particularly ugly divorce I was living on a nice street in a duplex. One of my neighbors invited me down for a beer on Saturday night which I gladly accepted. When I went home I had to pluck my eyebrows because I was going to a brand new church the next day, Easter Sunday.

I got out my magnifying mirror and my brand new heat in the microwave wax and waxed my eyebrows for the first time ever. It was so great, painless and fast and my eyebrows looked fabulous.

After viewing my face in my lighted magnifying mirror, with my slight buzz from being at the neighbors, I decided I had more of a mustache than I was comfortable with and I just happened to have this amazing new product that removed hair quickly and painlessly. Let’s do it! So, I waxed my upper lip. OH. MY. GOSH. Evidently plucking my eyebrows on an almost daily basis had toughened them up so they didn’t hurt to wax, what’s a bunch of hair vs. one hair at a time? No big deal. I had never waxed my upper lip before and it really hurt. I decided that was the end of my drunken waxing and went to bed so I could go to my BRAND NEW SINGLE’S SUNDAY SCHOOL the next day, Easter Sunday and easily THE BUSIEST DAY OF CHURCH ALL YEAR LONG.

The next morning I noticed when applying my foundation I noticed that it was having trouble sticking to my brand new, hair free upper lip. The hair seemed to act as a “holder” of the foundation. I decided it was okay after applying a liberal amount of powder to “cement” the foundation in place since I was now sans hair.

I went to Sunday school and the large number of bodies made the room warm, very warm. Not to mention that this was Texas so Easter is almost always on the warm side of spring and I was nervous. Between the crush of bodies, the warm spring sunshine and my nervousness I started to sweat, just a bit. Now imagine having skin that had just had the top layer ripped off so it was very sensitive to irritants, like salty sweat. I could see people starting to look at me like I was a freak but I just thought maybe I didn’t fit into the singles class I was attending for the very first time since my divorce. Being divorced did make you single, right? I would occasionally dab at my upper lip with a tissue trying to stop the burning.

After Sunday School was over I dashed into the bathroom to see why my upper lip was burning so badly… it was because it was irritated from the salty sweat, was now glowing a bright neon red and was swollen like I had been stung my wasps. It was like I had one of those big Sam Elliott mustache’s but mine was burning red tissue, not hair. I did eventually go back to Sunday school but not for a while and I never did fit in.

for me it would have to be when i was in grade school. i was a bed wetter back then. i always took a bath after i woke up and scrubbed myself thoroughly. but this one morning, when i got to school, right after saying the pledge (our teacher told us that if we didn't say it that a russian spy would kidnap us and take us away), the teacher announced "class! we have a bed wetter here. next time, if this child doesn't wash up before school, i'm going to tell you all who it is." no one laughed, but i was sure that they all knew it was me, and i was mortified (and very ashamed). to this day i would swear that i can still smell urine on me.

bty, happy bbd to one of the best bloggers around!

Wearing a lovely white sundress (sans underwear) to lunch with friends, when all of a sudden, "it" started a week early. I had dirty laundry in my car, so my friend grabbed some jeans, a shirt, and underwear for me. After a lot of difficult manuevering, and many awkward gawks from strangers I changed completely in the booth. I stuffed all available napkins into old underwear, we threw some cash on the table and promptly ran out.

When I was six or seven I was in a swimming class. In the middle of class I had to go to the bathroom but was terrified of the bathroom because there were usually "big girls" in there that would say mean things to me. So I thought I would hold it. Except that I couldn't. We were just starting to learn to dive and the teacher made us all lay on our stomachs at the edge of the pool. We were supposed to slither in. Well, he chose be to be the example and went to push me in. He pushed my butt and poop squished out of my bathing suit and all over the place while I went head-first into the pool (followed by some more poop). The ended up having to drain the pool to get it clean. I never went back to class.

I fell down the stairs at school in 10th grade, right after last period. The back stairs were jammed with people, and I was wearing Tevas that were too big for me. My toe caught on a stair, I pitched forward, heard a girl shriek, and that was the end of it.

I remember landing awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs against the wall, still holding my math book and calculator. One guy asked if I was okay, and I said, "Yeah, I'm fine..." and walked away. I made it to my locker, where I opened it, put my books away, then sat down and promptly went into shock.

I had a nasty bruise on my hip, another on my knee, and a broken foot. It's a wonder I didn't kill anyone on the way down, or have a head injury -- it was a big staircase!

On top of all this, I was on the school ski team, and when there was a winter sports assembly that I wasn't attending (for obvious reasons), my coach announced to the whole school why the MVP wasn't there. Bad, bad, bad.

When I was 18 years old I went to a high school across the city and I had to take the public bus through the worst part of town. It was quite common for junkies and mentally ill people to ride that bus. On the way home one day I sat next to a guy who looked pretty rough. Basically he had the shit kicked out of him and was all bruised and cut up. I should have known better. All of a sudden I felt wet on my leg and heard a splashing sound. The guy had peed his pants – and all over me too! He said “Ooops!” and ran off the bus. I stood there covered in some weirdo’s piss while another crazy lady started yelling to the rest of the bus that I had peed myself. The bus driver pulled over the bus and walked down the aisle to shake some kitty litter on the puddles all the while giving me a dirty look. I was mortified and couldn’t even defend myself. For the next hour that crazy lady kept on announcing to every new passenger that I had peed on the bus.

1) at age seven, i pooped on myself at the mall whilst shopping for a communion dress with my mom, who *refused* to leave until we found the perfect one.

2) at age 21, i fell down the stairs at college, in a forward kneeling position, when the heels of my pumps got stuck in the stairs, and i ripped my stockings and *totally* tore up my knees...just 20 minutes before a huge presentation.

3) at 110 pounds and 21 years old, i sat down on the edge of a friend's coffee table to talk to someone seated on the sofa, and i fell *directly through* the coffee table and completely broke it.

you pick. also, you having a blog for longer than any relationship shows that you truly can withstand dealing with all of your issues directly without giving up. go you!

First of all, when I did go to church, I was walking out of sacrament meeting with my child who was nearly 2, liked to talk and LIE her FACE off, and I told her firmly "if you can't be reverent I'm going to take you and sit you in the car with me for 10 minutes" in a whispered tone. She replied in the absolutely loudest voice on the planet of earth "NO MAMA! Don't beat me! Don't use the chains! Please mama, have MERCY!"

Yeah, um, can you say she didn't get to watch Nickelodeon ever again.

Also, here's a little something you're going to be pissed about because its fucking long, but hey, ya know, its a good one. Embarassing yes, good, hell fuckin yeah!

K, here, the Great Bare Ass Bonanza of 2004:

So this morning I was awakened by my 7th grader, my oldest...she was yapping in my face like a damn pomeranian about being late and boys who would be looking for her and how Kelly was bringing donuts and OMG OMG OMG!!!!!!!! Le sigh... So I dragged my fat ass out of bed and pulled on the nearest thing to me, my pajama bottoms. I make my way to the car and slip on some silver ballet shoes (shut up they're freakin sweet yo) and got in the van. The whole way there she's yappin about this and that and how somebody was "making out" and how so and so was going out with whats his name and I did the motherly nod-and-grunt when there was a pause or when it deemed appropriate. We pull up to her school and she bounds out and as she's walking away, she stops, turns and yells "Mom! You should get a Coke!"

MIRACLES OF MIRACLES!!!!!!! That kids a genius! I love 6:45 am Cokes!

So I head to the 7-11, yes the same 7-11 I met freakin Bob Marley at. I walk in there, silver ballet shoes and jammies and all, and make myself a BIGG ASS Coke. I could swim in this fucker, its huge. In true "Alli" style, I say hello and good morning to everyone there, because I'm just that way. Sickeningly cheerful. I get to the counter, chat with the lady there for a second as the line behind me is deathly silent. "Hmm" I think, "must be really early for these folks...they're all deathly silent." So I go to my car, drive home and walk in the house. This is when Casey my 5 year old sees me walking into the kitchen.

"Mom...you have a hole in your bum."
"Why yes, we all do. Thats how we poop," I reply.
"No, you have a big hole in your pants..." he giggles.

I reach around and feel...DEAR LORD!!!

No, I do not have a "hole" but a freakin 8 inch horizontal hole in my pants. Not just that, but a sagging hole, my whole ass was exposed. To make it worse... (please do not read further if you are faint of heart, have heart conditions, diabetes, high blood pressure or are pregnant or think you might be pregnant)....

I slept in the nude from the waist down because I was lazy after my shower. My naked ass was hangin out for all to see. I was not wearing a long tshirt, I was not wearing underwear...

I was butt ass naked. Everyone I said hello to, everyone in LINE!, everyone...like 20 people...saw the cheerful-happy-goodmorningy-crazy-naked-ass lady...

Sometimes I just wanna shoot myself in the larynx...
__________________________

Love ya Heather, lets do Chai Lattes.

that is all

THE KRISPY KREME INCIDENT.

imagine cream-colored pants on a warm, summer day and i've got my sexy, strappy sandals on. i'm feelin' gooood...flittin' around the office instead of relying in the intra-office delivery system, flipping my hair over my shoulder, feeling like hot shit, really. i'm all "ooh! look at me!" struttin' my stuff past glass-walled conference rooms FILLED with people in boring meetings, half-listening as they watch people--me included--strolling by in the hall. i'm saying hi to everyone, excusing myself to stride through clusters of people talking in the hallways...you get the idea: high visibility.

now let's go back in time a bit: someone brought in krispy kremes that morning and i am not a girl who will turn away from a jelly-filled krispy kreme donut. about 3 hours after enjoying said donut, i used the ladies' room and did a little self-assessment twirl in front of the full-length mirror, only to see--to my HORROR--a RED STAIN about the size of TEA SAUCER on my CREAM-COLORED PANTS, RIGHT SMACK IN THE MIDDLE OF MY ASS!

i tend to sit on the very front edge of my chair and can only assume that i took a bite of the donut while turning around to grab something from the printer behind me, dropped a glob of jelly on the back section of my seat and then slid my ass back into it shortly thereafter.

karma's a bitch.

When my son was little, like 2 years old maybe, we were standing in the long line waiting to checkout. We were near those racks right by the checkstands. You know, that rack that contains such a variety of things they want you to impulse purchase or handy things they think you might have forgotten. My son spies a box that he has got to have so he wanders forward and picks it up holding it above his head like it's the grand prize. He crows loudly, " Momma, Fuck o fit!" He's holding a box of Trojans. I gently pry the box from his hands and tell him that no, he cannot have the box of chocolate. (Yes, that is how he pronounced chocolate.) He is heartbroken and wails, "FUCK O FIIIIIT" clutching this box to his chest and crumbles to the floor in a little dejected pile of boy.

I attended a Christmas party at my boss's house. I ahd only been there for three months. His son and I got drunk. VERY drunk. While everyone sat around and sang Christmas songs, I went out on the back porch, sat in a chair, and commenced puking. I puked all over myself and all over his back porch. My boss's son(who will be my future boss) and my husband had to carry me to the car, WHILE I WAS STILL BARFING.

I've never lived down that night. But I still work for the man, two years later.

When I was in the 5th grade, my mother picked me up after school two days a week for Hebrew School. One afternoon, I desperately had to relieve myself, but she insisted we stop to buy a new backpack for me. We stopped at this children's boutique at a little strip mall in my neighborhood, and who should be in there but my best friend's mother. I reminded my mother that I needed to use the restroom, but the cranky old biddies at the store refused to let me use theirs.

I grabbed the first backpack I saw and did the pee-pee dance while my mother paid and exchanged pleasantries with my friend's mom. Finally, my 11 year old bladder could take it no longer, and I peed all over my legs and the carpeting.

I was mortified, my mother was furious, and the old biddies were very sorry they hadn't let me use the restroom.

The worst part? My mother drove me home and made me shower and change, and she STILL made me go to Hebrew School!

Two stories for the indulgent. I am a ...ahem... mature man well past the age where a ypung girl would be interested unless there was a sense I had dollars like The Donald throws around on young beauties.

I was talking to a really beatutiful young redhead at the local bookstore coffee shop and ahe told me she was studying international organizations in her poly-sci class. I immediately retorted that I thought she could have a great career in international orgasms! There was a pause and then we both broke out in laughter. I pled Freud and she let me off the hook!

Yeras ago I was recovering from a night of revelry when I was called to company HQ for a meeting with the head honcho. I twas the days of suits and ties and I was accordingly dressed. On the way I felt a rumbling echo of the effects the prevuious night's alcohol. I squeezed my bun cheeks and vowed to make it to the corporate bathroom. But it got worse. Finally I was squeezing so tight that my ass was three feet off the seat and my head was touching the ceiling. Then the diarheaa lobbyists prevailed on my sphincter to "pass the bill" and the asshole signed it. A virtual flood insued and I had to call and explain why I was going to be an hour late. (I dashed home to recover my dignity, shower, and change.) What an embarrassment!

I've blocked out all of my embarrassing moments from before I was a mother. But in the last year I've enjoyed several priceless moments...
My child yelling DANGER WHORE! DANGER WHORE! DANGER WHORE! because he was soooo excited about the plastic dinosaur I had given him.

Realizing that I'd been running around all day with a sticker that said "That's what friends are for!" across my ass. I mean, my clothes are always plastered with stickers, but that one was actually embarrassing.

Early in potty training days we were in the bathroom of a Barnes & Noble. A woman walked into the stall next to us and my son announced "What's that MAN doing?"
"That's a lady"
"Noooo it's a man. That man is peeing! That man is peeeeeeing Mama."
"She's a lady."
"That man flushed. He did a good job!"

Ummm then there was the time he pooped on the floor in Hobby Lobby and very loudly accused someone else of doing it. He sounded so horrified. "That MAN POOPED ON THE FLOOR! At HOBBY LOBBY! Somebody needs to clean it UP!!"

God there are so many more. Life with a toddler would be one continuous embarrassing moment if it weren't so completely entertaining.

i have a fart one -- only i wasn't in school. i was delivering my first son, in a room filled with family, doctors and nurses. PUSH! and i did. at least it was ONLY a fart. whew.

Who: me, 20 years old
What: steep, 4-story water slide
Where: Ocean City, MD
When: Summer 1988
Why: Welll, only boys were going down the slide. So, in front of my boyfriend, his friends and the rest of Maryland, I went down the slide. "Waaaaahooooooo!" I yelled to the onlookers, as I lifted my arms triumphantly overhead at the bottom of the slide.
"Your top," said my boyfriend's best friend (my boyfriend had no voice for some reason). Yup. Floating next to me.

Three hours later, walking past a biker bar, a seedy character said "Why hello again! It's the little girl we saw...."

yea yea yea, buddy.

I think all of my embarrassing moments involve me farting. 5th grade, seated on floor, legs spread wide open, let one rip while laughing. Teacher, trying not to laugh, "Now THAT was uncalled for." At a formal party celebrating a friend's law school graduation, thought I could let one slip after a bout of stomach flu. Farted for like 5 minutes, feeling great. EVERYONE in the circle I was standing and talking to in my formal dress heard it, and I thought I was being so smooth. One woman's response: "Toni, you SOW!" My response? I DENIED IT, even going to the lengths of looking behind me for the source. While pregnant, shopping at IKEA, wearing those cute denim overalls, getting up from a chair, ripping a cheek-slapper. My husband, sounding like a schoolmarm: "Toni! EXCUSE yourself!" After giving birth, numbed from the waist down due to epidural, my first son's godfather came to visit. I farted for like 5 minutes as he stood by my bedside. I think I deserve a coupon or something for having just SHOVED A PERSON out my verticle mile, but instead, a month later we were out for beers and he ordered one called "Old Speckled Hen." Then someone brought up the postpartum fart, and the godfather started calling ME an old specked hen. I had to kill him. There was no other choice. Thus ends My Life In Farts. It's kind of like Beaches, only instead of friends and terminal illness, it's me. And farts.