Archive | January, 2015

Love In A Time Of Awkwardness

21 Jan

While still in the early stages of a new relationship, I had an episode of diarrhea that can only be described as catastrophic.

During the first month of our relationship Boyfriend and I had decided to go away on our first trip together. However, I did not want to have a repeat of the cruise incident in which I had given myself laxative-induced diarrhea with my then boyfriend sitting a foot from the door.

So, I decided that I would not poop during the trip. Good plan! beach vacation

After 5 blissful days spent lounging around Key West, I was sure of two things:

(1) I was in love

(2) I really, really needed to poop

In a fit of romanticism, Boyfriend decided to extend our love-filled vacation by taking me out to breakfast before dropping me off at home. I had been packing away greasy meals and fruity cocktails for nearly a week – what was 1 more meal?

After breakfast my stomach began to ache. “I must’ve eaten too fast”, I thought to myself.

As we walked to the car, my stomach growled loud enough for Boyfriend to ask if I was ok. “Ya”, I answered, “My tummy is just a little upset. {Geisha giggle}

When we got in the car, I had broken out into a cold sweat. I began mentally calculating the amount of time it would take to get to my apartment versus the intensity of the cramps in my gut.

I can do this… I can do this… I CAN’T DO THIS!

Me: “Um, Boyfriend? I need you to pull into a bathroom”, {surprising myself with the calmness in my voice given the urgency of the situation.}

Boyfriend: “Um, where do you want me to stop? Let me think, hm… There’s a Target up the road, but I think the movie theater might have nicer bathrooms. Or would you prefer to go back to my pla –“

Me: “Pull over, NOW!”

Boyfriend: {Makes a sharp right turn going the wrong way down a one-way street and pulls into a Denny’s parking lot}

Run Have you ever run full gallop into a Denny’s restaurant pushing the hostess out of the way while muttering prayers that you not shit your pants in public?

I have.

After 35 shameful minutes I awkwardly walked back out into the parking lot, searching for Boyfriend. When at first I didn’t see the car, I had assumed he left me for a woman who didn’t need to have emergency poops in a Denny’s restaurant filled with brunching retirees. I eventually spotted him parked under a tree. I slowly climbed into his SUV. He rolled all the windows down. {I begin to pray a me-sized sinkhole will open up and swallow me} The rest of the ride home was spent in silence.

Months later, Boyfriend still laughs about the incident.

Boyfriend: “What if you had actually crapped your pants in my car?”

Me: “I would’ve immediately dumped you, unable to live with the shame.”

Boyfriend: “Seriously? How does my girlfriend crap her pants in MY car and then I’M the one who gets dumped?”

Me: “Luckily, that didn’t happen, so we can keep dating. Looooove youuuuu”

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Beauty is Embarrassing

14 Jan

My friend, Donna, and I had a conversation the other day about the level of abuse and embarrassment women subject themselves to all in the name of beauty.

For those who read my post about Helga the Russian Waxer from Hell, you understand. For those who haven’t, here is an example of each waxing visit Donna and I have ever gone to:

Waxer: “What do you need done? Lip?”

Me: “I – Oh. Um… no. Just my eyebrows today”

Waxer: “And then lip?”

Me: “I think my lip is ok, just eyebrows today.”

Waxer: “Chin?”

Me: “What the – No. Just eyebrows. Thanks.”

Waxer: {shrugs and waxes the eyebrows} ”Wow! Your skin is super red”

Me: {My hairs were plucked out by the root in a single, violent pulling motion.} “That’s normal though, right?” {Recall seeing the 3 women before me also walk out with red eyebrows}

Waxer: “I think it’s just your skin.” {Purells her hands in dramatic fashion}

Once my self-esteem has been thoroughly crushed, I am now shamed into tipping this woman 75% because I feel bad for HER. I can’t imagine the horrors she encountered while having to touch my disgusting (and excessively fuzzy, apparently?) face.

As a result of this conversation, I decided to try threading my eyebrows today instead of waxing. Because, you know, maybe threaders were nicer?threading

The esthetician was a bit rough, but I was otherwise content because she hadn’t insulted me or pointed out rooms for improvement that actually consisted of things I cannot improve upon without undergoing plastic surgery.

That is, until she got to the end…

Instead of brushing the loose hairs off my face with a cotton swab or facial tissue, the esthetician blew on my face. As she did so, I felt her spit on me.

What the– is this real life? Did a grown woman just spit on my face?

I had basically paid someone $20 (plus a 90% shame-tip) to spit on me. I am aware that in some circles, this is something of a fetish, but it’s not really my thing.

I immediately text Donna about this next level abuse, to which she responded, “I have no words, only laughter”. Once she stopped laughing, Donna pointed out that this is the type of thing that doesn’t happen to “normal” people but is just an average day in the life for me.

I may be awkward and covered in spit, but at least my eyebrows look amazing.

So…there.

New Year’s Resolution

7 Jan

resolutions

I usually don’t make New Years resolutions, because they tend to set me up for failure. I resolve to do something, then when I don’t I become terribly depressed. When I’m depressed I eat all the cookie dough while standing in the fridge.

When I realize what I look like, I feel ashamed, become even more depressed and go back to standing in the fridge to rummage around for the cookie dough that I hid from myself in the crisper.

It’s a vicious cycle.

However, several readers who noticed I hadn’t posted on Awkward Charm since October 2014 brought it to my attention. To you all I say, “Thank you for missing me and giving me the kick in the butt I needed!”

I also would like to say, fear not for I resolve to post more frequently in 2015!

{pause for round of applause}

Of those who wrote in, many asked,

“Why have you abandoned us?”

“Has a genie granted your wish to no longer be awkward?”

“Did you win the lottery and flee to a secluded island to spare us your awkwardness?”

Um…no.

What could be more important than my little Awkwards? Nothing!!

In truth, I didn’t stop being awkward and I most definitely did not win the lottery {sad sigh}, I just got a job that was working me 7 days a week. What little energy and brainpower I had was put toward my work and the purchase of more cookie dough. Don’t judge me…

But now I am back and equipped with more awkward stories for your reading pleasure!

Stay tuned!

– AC