|Oh, god. I can't look.|
I must be a glutton for punishment. Yep, that's it.
So… here's the thing; Ms.Crazypants
tagged me in another blog.
Something 'bout being on fire. ------>
(What's up with that?)
Now I'm supposed to come up with 7 embarrassing moments from my past.
Not quite sure how those two correlate or how I came about it… I think maybe Lyn was consuming a little too much alcohol at those belly-dancing Bulgarian night clubs she was chatting about.
As for me and MY embarrassing situations…
I've either suppressed them OR I'm incredibly forgetful. Maybe both. (Was it the concussion?)
This is how bad it is, I had to inquire, NAY---> DEMAND stories from my friends and family, trying to jar my memory on stupid things I've done. After much prodding, I finally managed to compile my list of 7. Come to find out, my friends all seem to think I am either impervious to embarrassment or just really good at embarrassing them. HA! I guess that's not a bad place to be…
(You hear that CRIT gals… look out come Sept 29th. Eh-hem.)
Unfortunately… (or perhaps fortunately, I don't know) I'm too wordy for my own good. I've decided that since a human's attention span is approximately 3 minutes (thorough scientific research, you know), I'm gonna make this a weekly thing until I've got all 7… um, expunged from my memory banks permanently.
Here's numero uno on my damn list.
1. Boyfriend arrangement
|True love on a bus.|
As the story has been replayed back to me; I had been flirting (albeit horribly) to a fellow geeky 8th grader of the opposite sex. (Eureka!). Now, at 13, or whatever god-awful age this was, I was floundering. Evidently, so was he.
Crazy curly turned around and eyed the two of us mischievously with her wicked, multicolored eyes.
(Yes, they are TWO different colors, for realz.)
"Are you two going together?" She asked.
"Um, no." We both mumbled.
"Well, you are now." Curly declared. A scrawny finger was thrust through the air like a javelin at wide-eyed 8th grade boy. "Sit with her, already, would you?"
A smirk spread across her face and Curly sat back down.
You know what? It freakin' worked!
Once the crimson had faded from our cheeks, 8th-grade-deer-in-the-headlights-boy fumbled around for his backpack and moved over to my seat. It was love.
For all of three weeks.
|Love ya, curly girly!|
Ironical side note---> Crazy Curly turned out to be Beta-Reader-Extraordinaire. Huh.
Lesson learned: Love pops up unexpectedly.
~Occasionally in the form of nosy, curly-haired girls----------------->
- Up next Friday...
2. Cutting my hair long
(Yes, you read that right. I have the pics to prove it.)