Archive | February, 2013

I Mace Yo’ Face

26 Feb

My mom used to have a can of mace.  If you don’t know what that is, it’s a portable chemical spray, like tear gas or pepper spray, that you can squirt into an attacker’s eyes to give yourself time to get away. Needless to say, it’s potent stuff.


The unattainable is always the most desirable – especially to children who have been repeatedly told “no” or “touch that and I’ll beat you into next Tuesday”.  OK! Gosh! I never get to have any fun!

But you can’t keep a good kid down. I was something of a Nosey Nelly.  My parents had zero privacy. No matter how hard my mom tried to hide things, I found them.

So when mom put the can of mace inside of an unmarked box, behind a stack of old magazines and on the highest shelf of the laundry room closet – it was only too easy to find.  {Like I said: I am was a bit of a snoop}

There I was.

10 years old.


Waiting for my neighbor to pick me up to take me to school.

Holding a can of mace.

I knew it was dangerous or bad or whatever my mom had said.  But I needed to spray it. I needed to.

I decided to spray it (away from my face! Obviously! I’m not stupid {snort, chuckle}).

The plan was, I’d spray it in the laundry room and then quickly scurry back up the shelves and deposit it in its hiding place – no one ever needs to know.

Except that when you point a can of mace toward the air vent and spray the air pushes it directly back in your face.


Oh no! Oh.  This isn’t so bad.

screaming-child It’s….it’s…BURNING MY FACE OFF!!!!!!!

I ran to the bathroom with tears and snot dripping down my face. I splashed water repeatedly into my eyes and up my nose, but nothing could stop the burning. It seemed to intensify.

{Honk, honk}

I blindly looked in the direction of the sound of my neighbor honking the horn to let me know she’s here and it’s time to go to school. {Continue splashing face with water}

{Hoooooooooooonk, hooooooooooooooonk}

{Continue splashing face with water}

{Knock, knock, knock}

{Continue splashing face with water}

{Pound, pound, pound}

{Open door, standing there red-eyed and blotchy faced, coughing, with my little green backpack in one hand and my lunch bag in the other}

Neighbor: “Are you alright, dear? Did something happen?”

Me: “No. Why?” {cough, blows nose, winces


How Do I Get Off This Train?

17 Feb

I love to travel.  I just hate all the awkward situations I put myself in when I do.  When my friend, Dolly and I decided to go overseas I should’ve known it would be no different.

We decided to take the train to the airport.  I had never been on the train, but Dolly assured me it was easy.  She clearly had never traveled with an awkward charmer before.

Although we were only going to be gone for a week I packed the entire contents of my closet.

When we got on the train, we were told our suitcases had to go in the racks above our seats.  Were they insane? I couldn’t even reach the racks and my suitcase weighed almost as much as I did.suitcase

I tried to look around for a man to help me, but as soon as they spotted my behemoth suitcase they suddenly became very interested in whatever newspaper or magazine in their hands.

I managed to get one wheel up on the rack before my twig arms gave out and the whole thing came tumbling down on top of me. I dove to the floor and let the seats bare the brunt of the weight.

The two {cough} gentleman behind me were laughing their heads off.  Dolly eventually managed to heave my enormous bag up for me.

Dolly realized it was on her to do all the heavy lifting, so when we got to our stop she waited for the passengers to clear out before wrestling our bags down in order to avoid hitting someone on the head.

By the time I got to the door it slammed shut and the train started to pull away from the station.

Right.  I should mention that I am not good in an emergency situation.  Whereas some people have a flight or fight response, I just remain frozen until the panic subsides.

emergency leverOr in this case until Dolly screams “Pull the emergency lever” really loudly in my ear.

I as I stood there, stupidly blinking at her because it was all I could muster. She again screamed, “ PULL THE EMERGENCY LEVER! DO IT!”

So I did.  I pulled the lever in front of me.

As it turns out this lever did not signal the conductor to stop the train. It pulled the rubber out from around the windowpane on the door so that the glass fell out of the train and the lever with rubber and all was left dangling from my hand.

As I stood there holding up the incriminating evidence, she threw it out the now gaping hole in the door and we took off running into the next car with our suitcases slamming into seats behind us.

So much for subtle.

We had assumed we could just get off at the next stop and change trains, but as the ticket taker explained, this train wasn’t going to stop for another 20 minutes and it would be the last stop, so everyone has to get off.


He looked from the vandalized door then back to me with my enormous suitcase and covered in anxiety sweats, sighed loudly, and told us to just stay on the train and he’d make sure we get back to the airport without having to switch trains.

As the train pulled into the last stop the conductor came on the loud speaker and announced that we were at the last stop and everyone was to get off  “except the two girls going to the airport.  You two remain on the train.”

{Me and Dolly sitting there with enormous suitcases}

Who could he mean? Weird.

Valentine’s Day Card

13 Feb

A fellow twitter-er (is that a thing?) posted this picture of a Valentine’s Day card which she described as this generation’s version of a valentine’s day card because we’re all so awkward. Brilliant!

The perfect awkward valentine

The perfect awkward valentine

I saw this and laughed until I cried because this is basically what comes pouring out of my mouth every time I talk to someone I like. Thank you @p4stelprincess for the laugh!

And now I really, really want to get a card like this for Valentine’s Day!

May you all have an awkwardly charming Valentine’s Day!

[I promise to stop saying “Valentine’s Day” now]

Awkward Bouquet Toss

6 Feb

Weddings can turn the most rational and grounded of women into psychotic hexenbiest (nerdy Grimm reference) – especially single women! And I am no exception.

The worst part of every wedding has to be the constant barrage of questions about my singledom. Singlehood? Singleness? About why I’m single.
bouquet toss
For some reason this is a most baffling concept to every mom/aunt/grandmother type at a wedding. And they just can’t bare it, so when it’s time for the bouquet toss they shove me out onto the dance floor in hopes that I will catch the bouquet and *finally* get married.

This is also around the time that the cute guy I was flirting with makes himself scarce. {hmpf}

When one of my best friends got married a few years ago she assured me that I would be free to be as single as I pleased.

As it turns out, without a mom/aunt/grandmother type hovering over me I am apparently also free to get completely and utterly fall-down drunk at weddings.

It was now the end of the night and the dreaded bouquet toss was next. However, it no longer seemed so terrible.  In fact, I found myself really, really wanting to catch the bouquet. Like… REALLY! {war face}

Since I am {ehem} petite, I stood in front of the group of women and directly in front of my friend, Ann, who is easily a head taller. Normally, I would think “Come on! You don’t have a chance with your little arms.”, but not this day.  Not. This. Day.

I was drunk with determination – and tequila.

When my friend tossed the bouquet, Ann realized it was coming right to her. All she had to do was reach up her hand and it would fall right into her arms without barely any effort. Here it comes…

[I jumped 2 feet into the air and volleyball spiked the bouquet sending it skidding across the dance floor] Volleyball_Spike

In my drunken panic, I had assumed that the 10 other single women out there with me would be running after it, so I took off.  But when you are drunk, things like jumping and running don’t work out and I fell.  I wasn’t about to let a little thing like a bruised knee stop me! Like I said… I was determined!

So I did a panicked crawl/lunge and threw my tiny body on top of the bouquet like a footballer anticipating a tackle.  I then jumped up waving the bouquet victoriously in one hand.  {Gloating openly}

The entire room fell silent.

Everyone was frozen and staring at me wide-eyed and opened mouthed.  The bride looked terrified.  Even the photographer slowly lowered his camera; too frightened the flash would trigger my inner bouquet beast.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh {bleeeeeeeeep}. I guess no one was going to attempt to take that bouquet away from me after that. Haha. Ha. Heh. Um…

I just smiled, hugged the bride and walked calmly back to my seat – while hugging my bouquet.

As horribly awkward as that was, I couldn’t help but feel like I won – for once!

{holding up bouquet with it’s one flower pedal left}

I won.