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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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Talk Dirty To Me

3 Apr

In my Valentine’s Day post, I discussed the implications of what a holiday focused on conveying love means for someone who, despite his or her occasional charm, is generally awkward.  But what are the consequences of everyday awkwardness in the boudoir?

Regardless of what your sexual kink(s) might be, you’ve probably encountered someone who has asked you to do something that made you uncomfortable.  I think we’re all having a collective flashback to the episode of Sex and the City when the Politician asks Carrie to pee on him. Right?

Well for me, it’s being asked to talk “dirty”.  I realize it’s not the most scandalous of things, but I just…it makes me uncomfortable. And as you all know, when I’m uncomfortable I laugh loudly and inappropriately in people’s faces.

XvtcU

To this point in my life, I’ve mostly gotten away with giving the vague response of “me too” in these situations.

“You make me so hot”

“Uh… me too”

But that doesn’t always work.

“You make me so hard”

“Me too!”

“What did you just say?”

“Me too?”

I had a boyfriend who not only enjoyed talking dirty, but insisted on a response.  I was able to carry on with my generic “me too” for a while, but one day Boyfriend laid out in explicit detail all the things about me that turned him on. I thought, “Oh, that’s nice” and continued on with my day.

Unfortunately, Boyfriend wanted me to tell him in equally explicit and uncomfortable detail all the things I liked.  Naturally, my first instinct was to bust out in my best impression of Sir Mix-A-Lot:

I like big butts and I cannot lie

You other brothers can’t deny

{mumbling through the part of the song I couldn’t remember}

…that butt you got makes me so horny!

Ooh, Rump-o’-smooth-skin…

{Boyfriend walks out of the room in a huff} Was it something I said?

Convinced that my inability to talk dirty back to him was a major defect that needed to be corrected, Boyfriend decided he would teach me. I argued that he knew I was awkward when he met me and he should really know better, but his major defect was his stubbornness.

So there I was… Boyfriend’s soulful eyes locked with my ever-widening panicky eyes and I begin to laugh uncontrollably. Boyfriend will not be deterred.

Boyfriend: {Ignoring my nervous laughter 2 inches from his face} “What do you like”

Me: “Um…{more nervous giggling}… “I like big butts and I cannot—“

Boyfriend: “NO! This is serious! Tell me. What do you want me to do to you?”

Me: “Um… I… {looking around the room for kinky ideas. Nothing.} I want you to do it.”

Boyfriend: {looks confused but hopeful} Do, what?

Me: “You know… IT.” {raise both eyebrows to emphasize my point}

Boyfriend: “I don’t know what “it” is”

Me:  “Sex, dummy.  Do the sex.”

Boyfriend: “No, you’re not getting it! Be explicit. What sexual things do you want me to do?”

Me: “All of it!”

Boyfriend: “No…”

Me: “Yes. Do all the sex to me!” {fall back into a fit of laughter}

{Boyfriend walks out of the room in a huff} Was it something I said?

I’m all for exploring and experimenting within a relationship {just typing that made me giggle nervously}, but do so in a way that doesn’t intimidate or push your partner past their boundaries.

Above all, embrace the awkward! We may not be the most seductive bunch, but we are capable of great love – and laughter.

Cat Got Your…Shirt?

28 Feb

To say I was a late bloomer is an understatement.  I didn’t really have a way with men, what with the awkwardness and all.  The braces and thick glasses didn’t help much either {ehem}

Moving on…

Those who have read about the incident with the Most Beautiful Man Known to Human Kind would argue that my awkwardness around men continues.  And I wouldn’t dispute that.  But I will say I’ve gotten better.

Sophomore year of college I was living with my friend, Claudia. I’m not saying she was a Femme Fatale, but she had some game, which was more than I could say for myself. 

I had a crush on our next-door neighbors, Ken Doll & Beagle Boy.  I wasn’t picky about which one I dated; either would do! But I couldn’t figure out how to get them to talk to me.

After months of unsuccessful attempts to engage them in conversation, I looked to Claudia for help.  It took 20 minutes of begging and giving the sad puppy eyes, but she caved.  Her plan was to invite them to our friend’s block party up the street.

“Great plan”, I thought.  “Now go invite them! I’ll wait here.”

It turns out the second half of the plan was for ME to invite them. {panic mode initiated}.  Claudia coached me on what to say so that I could come across casual and cool (as was possible for me, anyway). 

Me: {>knock, knock< attempt to run away several times. Claudia grabs my arm to keep me in place.}

surprised womanKen Doll: {Opens door without a shirt on} “Hey guys!”

Me: {Jaw drops to floor.  Claudia hasn’t prepared me for this!}

Claudia: {Smiles. Gives me a not-so-subtle nudge}

Ken Doll: “What’s up?”

Me: {Continue staring open-mouthed; drool dribbles down my face}

Claudia: {Speak. SPEEEEEEEEEAK!}

Me: {Help me. I’m dying here}

Claudia: {Either picks up on my telepathic plea or could no longer stand the awkwardness} “Hey! We were just wondering if you guys wanted to come with us to our friend’s party.  He’s just up the street.  Lots of folks from our division are going.”

Me: {Fervently nod head in the affirmative.}

Ken Doll: Cool! {looks down at my bobble-like head} But, um, I’ve got a test tomorrow so I should probably study.

Me: {Fervently nod head in the negative.}

Claudia: “What about your roommate?”

 Ken Doll: “He’s not home” {see Beagle Boy walk into the kitchen, oblivious to us in doorway}. Have a good night!

As soon as the door slammed shut in my face I regained the ability to speak as if by magic.  “I’m sooooo sorry, Clau! I just… he… NAKED!”

She puts her arm around my shoulders and says, “Well, I couldn’t get you the guy but how about a Dairy Queen milkshake instead?”

Dairy Queen:  Making the awkward feel better since 1940.

I Fart You

17 Feb

keep-calm-and-listen-to-my-farts-2

Lately I’ve found myself having many conversations about potty humor and dating. An awkward topic, I know. But it keeps coming up in conversation. Probably because my friends know I am the only one who can have an intelligent-ish conversation on this topic.

Yes, I am in my 30s. Yes, I enjoy potty-humor. But is potty humor appropriate in the context of dating? If so, how far is too far?  Like, should I text my date from the bathroom? You know, the burning questions of our time…

It goes without saying that my sense of humor is not something that has always served me well in terms of dating.  Men tend to either smile politely while continuing to stare at my breasts or walk away shaking their heads.

This, I am told by much cooler friends, is not the response one wants.

Admittedly, not everyone is so comfortable with the topic as to purposely give themselves diarrhea whilst vacationing with their boyfriend {ehem}.  But you can’t be so uptight about these things either.

I once had a boyfriend demand that I run the faucet when in the bathroom lest he hear me tinkle. This man saw combat, yet nothing in this world could be so horrible as a tinkle! {fanning self in delicate debutante fashion}

But the thing is, bodily functions do happen! No matter how much you try to hide your disgusting sound effects from a loved one, they will always find a way to sneak through.

One night I was sound asleep at The (ex) Boy’s house, when I woke up with a start.

As I wondered what could’ve startled me, I turned to look at The Boy asleep beside me.  He was a proper Adonis with his bare chest glistening in the glow of the moonlight.  Lips softly parted as if to say, “kiss me”.  My breath caught at the sight of…

{PBHFBBFPFFFFFFFT}

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!

I saw his brow scrunch up like a baby about to drop a poo in the middle of the living room.

{pbhfffffft <squeak>}

His face relaxed back into the sweet embrace of slumber.

1350542305802_3306984Having realized that it was his powerful toots which woke me, I was in a fit of silent giggles. Not wanting to wake him, I stuffed the bed sheets in my mouth to keep from laughing out loud as he continued to serenade me with the song of his people.

Not able to resist any longer, I jokingly whispered down to him, “What was that you said, mi amor?”

{PPBBBFPFPFPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTPBSPFB}

“Aw, I fart you too” {scoot to far end of bed and fall asleep still giggling}

When I informed The Boy of what had happened, he was so horrified he nearly crashed the car. [Note to self: Do not spring awkwardness on people while they are driving].

In conclusion, the moral of the story – if there even is one? Who knows anymore!– is that one cannot be so uptight about bodily functions.  They are a part of our daily lives. They will happen whether you want them to or not.

And if that doesn’t convince you, then think of it this way: After witnessing an incident like the one above, you now have the ammunition to win every single argument!

“Why can’t you ever unload the dishwasher?”
Why can’t you stop farting in your sleep?”

“You embarrassed me in front of my parents tonight!
As embarrassing as the time you woke me up with your machine gun farts?”

 You see? Embrace the potty humor.  It may even save your relationship!

Or… maybe not.

Valentine’s Day: An Awkward Journey

6 Feb

cardFebruary, the month of love, heralds the arrival of Valentine’s Day.  It’s a difficult holiday to ignore when every time I turn on the TV or walk into a store I am smacked in the face with hearts and cherubs.  I find myself desiring things I would normally never want, like an edible fruit arrangement or an open heart pendant from Kay.

 Just the other day I went to McDonald’s and saw they were offering romantic candlelit dinners for Valentine’s Day!  I stood frozen in front of the Dollar menu, contemplating the pros and cons of having Ronald McDonald, Grimace and The Hamburglar along on a date {shiver} until a mother with 3 kids in the midst of a meltdown if they didn’t get a Happy Meal shoved me aside.

 I spent the rest of the day thinking about Valentine’s Day.  In particular, what a holiday focused on conveying love and admiration to a loved one means for someone who, despite his or her occasional charm, is generally awkward.

For those who are in love it is a time of great joy and provides an excellent opportunity to rub your two-dozen roses in your co-worker’s face.  For those who are single it can be a time of sadness, when the memories of love lost are haunting and units of alcohol consumed skyrocket.

And then there are those who are awkward…

For the awkward person, Valentine’s Day can be tricky. We are a well-intentioned people, but where we struggle is with the execution of our best laid plans.

I’d like to share some of my own experiences and lessons learned in hopes that those who love an awkward person can understand their struggle.

[Note: not all of these will apply to you or your loved one.  But they might.  Maybe?  I mean, they clearly all apply to me, so… yeah.]

Lesson 1:  The awkward person is not subtle.

 Let me remind you all that Awkward Charm’s very first post, Awkward Swagger, was the story of a 4-year old me attempting to seduce my sister’s friend by hugging his leg and shoving a potato chip in his face.  I suppose you could say I peaked early? {cough}

Lesson 2:  The awkward person cannot “read” the situation.

            In 3rd grade I was completely and utterly in love with my classmate, Andy.  He was in my math group and I spent every minute staring at him from across the table.

             You can imagine how excited I was when Valentine’s Day finally arrived! I gave everyone in class a card, but saved the best one for Andy.  Andy, however, gave a card to everyone except me.  No bother! I would not be fazed. I loved him.  And I was going to let him know! As we lined up by the door for the final bell to ring, I mustered up the courage to tell him what was in my heart. 

I closed my eyes and at the top of my lungs I screamed “ANDY, I LOVE YOU!”  {class goes silent, bell rings, Andy runs away, I become a pariah}.

Lesson 3: The awkward person does not always express their emotions appropriately

            In college I was at a bar with a friend who I had a crush on.  Valentine’s Day was around the corner and I wanted a date – him specifically.  However, a lifetime of rejection had taught me that this was just a fantasy.  So, when he turned to me and began to praise all my virtues, I was happy that he at least valued me as a person.  When he cupped my face in his hands, I was confused.  When he kissed me, I was completely overwhelmed. Everything from exhilaration to anxiety hit me all at once.  Was this really happening?

As he sat there, giving me a smug, satisfied look, I threw my head back and laughed loudly in his face.

He was furious. I tried to explain that I sometimes laugh when I’m overwhelmed or nervous, but the more distraught I became, the harder I laughed.  I took several big gulps of my drink and urged him to kiss me again, solemnly swearing not to laugh this time.  He took a deep breath and began to kiss me; oblivious to all the looks we were getting from the other patrons.  He pulled away, asking with some hostility in his voice, “And?”

And… I laughed again.

Lesson 4: The awkward person is not a romantic

            It’s not that I do not like romance or that I cannot appreciate the effort, I just… it makes me uncomfortable.  And as you can see from the story above, my reaction to these situations is not always the most appropriate.

A boyfriend I had a few years ago decided to surprise me with a grand, romantic gesture to compensate for a lifetime of dismal Valentine’s Day experiences.  I should also point out that I do not do well with surprises {ehem}. We had agreed to go to dinner and spend the night at my house.  When we got back home, he insisted we go in through the back entrance, which I thought was unusual because it meant having to walk around the block through the rain-slicked path and up the pitch-black porch.

I stepped into the kitchen, but it was dark and there was something silky under my feet.  My wet shoes skid and I slammed my hip into the stove, pinballing my little body into Boyfriend’s chest and onto the floor.

Me: “Fucketty, fuck, fuck, fucking, FUCK!”

Boyfriend: {turns on light revealing a trail of rose petals leading into the bedroom} “Surprise?”

Me: {angrily stomp off into the sanctuary of my bedroom following near death experience} “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” {pointing to even more offending rose petals covering my bed}

Boyfriend: It’s romance.

Me: {skeptical squint} Is it?

Lesson 5: The awkward person is not seductive

            My boyfriend at the time had suggested we do something to spice things up for Valentine’s Day.  Seduction has never been my strong suit (See Lesson 1), so I had to consult my girlfriends for ideas.

They suggested I take a pole dancing class.  I tried to argue against this by pointing out that neither of us had a pole in our respective homes. However, the girls suggested the class could teach me to unleash my inner wildcat.  I was pretty sure the only thing inside me was a smaller, more awkward version of myself, but I agreed to take the class anyway.

            The pole dancing class consisted of 2 hours of me flinging my body against the pole while the instructor screamed “GIVE ME SEX EYES!” whatever that meant!

            When I got home I was covered in bruises, my wrists were swollen, and I felt anything but sexy. The Boyfriend patted my head and told me not to worry because he had something lined up – this may have been his plan all along?  On the day, he surprised me with a strip tease. I started laughing to the point that tears were streaming down my face.

Luckily, he was fully aware of my habit of laughing when I was uncomfortable and didn’t seem offended by it.  But he did feel it warranted punishment, so he held me face down and began to tickle me.  I laughed until I thought I would throw up.

Instead, I farted.

I farted in his face.

I farted in his face on Valentine’s Day.

“The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved – loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.”

 ~Victor Hugo

Strings Attached

30 Aug

Believe it or not, I was on a date recently.  Don’t laugh! Awkward people need love too, you know.

 My date and I agreed to meet up at a local bar and grab a drink.  At first, it was awkward – as is any situation involving men and me.  But he kept buying me glasses of wine and soon the awkwardness melted away and the charm began to take over.

Or so I thought…

He seemed to be a bit more taken with me than I was with him or so I gathered based on the fact that he kept touching my thigh {don’t touch me} and even mentioned meeting my family one day. Woah! 

(A.)  We are only half way through a first date.  Slow your roll, buddy!

(B.)  Thanks to incidents like these, all boyfriends are banned from meeting my family until after we’re married!

Speaking of family, my date wanted to see a picture of Panicky Dog.  I began to dig around for my phone in the abyss I call my purse which contains the unorganized contents of my entire life. In my purse you will find everything from dental floss to dog treats and everything in between – with the exception of money; very little to none of that in there.

{Feeling around for my phone. Aha! There it is!}

I quickly whipped my phone out bringing with it a pair of G-string panties I had worn during my last bikini wax session and completely forgot about until exactly this moment.

{He looks at my black thong, hanging daintily off my pinky finger}

shock{I stare at him wide-eyed and opened-mouth. Frozen in panic}

Date: Wow! Someone came prepared.

Me: {Shove G-string back into purse} No! You see, I use them only for when I get a bikini wax. And I did that {hyperventilating slightly} and now I’m done with that {what are you saying?} and I forgot to take them off. I mean out! I forgot to take them out of my giant mom-sized purse.  Not that I am a mom, obviously! I’m not even sure I want kids, really. I just… I got a bikini wax.

 Date: {Leering}

Me: No! No, no. None of that. No.  Not for you.

Date: Oh…

Me: I didn’t mean… it wasn’t for anyone! I just… hygiene? {he begins to cheer up a bit} And… but that would still be a no for you.  Sorry.

I don’t know how, but the date continued on as if the G-string hadn’t made it’s naughty appearance. I think that second bottle of wine helped…

In the end he seemed more interested in getting into my knickers than in getting to know me, so I cut him loose.

My Awkward Week

26 Aug

WTFAlthough awkwardness is part of my life, it doesn’t usually strike so violently as it did last week.  Each day could’ve been it’s own story, really. I feel the accumulation of all these things over the span of 5 days makes more of an impact, though.

Here is my awkward week:

Monday:  I had just rolled out of bed and opened the door to take my dog for her morning walk when I hear a man shout and a giant black blur run down the hall.   It was my neighbor’s Big Dumb Dog, which is a mix between a lab and horse, from what I can tell.  His owner was shouting at this giant puppy to “come” and “heel”, but to no avail. I manage to shove Panicky Dog back into the apartment, but not in time to avoid Big Dumb Dog shoving the door open and running in after her (he weighs more than I do, ok? Don’t judge me!)

I am now standing in the doorway with Panicky Dog hidden firmly between my legs watching as this beast is tearing through my apartment like it’s his own private dog park.  I have been awake for all of 5 minutes and am not able to fully grasp what is happening. Nor do I have the ability to speak as I am in a state of shock.  The owner eventually comes into the apartment; causing Big Dumb Dog to think it’s all a big game, thus setting him off even more.  The whole time his owner is alternating between “I’m so sorry” and uselessly shouting commands to “stop”.  He eventually wrestles the dog to the ground, leashes him (which is what he should’ve done before letting him out!) and calmly walks out of my apartment.  But then we are both taking our dogs out for a walk… at the same time…

Tuesday: I was sitting in my office when an extremely loud and forceful, man-sized fart escaped my bum.  Suddenly the office clatter of typing and talking on the phone fell completely silent.  I began to text my family & friends who tried to offer useful advice, but it was too late. It was clearly a fart.  And it clearly came from my office.  My mom’s response to this story was “Never change… You have a special character J

Later that day I had a meeting and when I got out of the car both pant legs were tucked into my ankle boots.  Naturally, I did a quick leg shake, but if the back came loose the front got stuck. If I shook the left leg, the right leg would inexplicably tuck back into the boot.  I did a sort of awkward jig next to my car for about 5 minutes before my pants righted themselves – because bending over would’ve been too easy and not awkward enough!  That’s when, to my horror, I discover the car directly in front of me had it’s driver still inside.  And he was just laughing and laughing…and laughing.

Wednesday:  Fearful of Big Dumb Dog I now feel the need to tip toe down the hallway in an exaggerated manner like some cartoon burglar while carrying a squirming Panicky Dog.  Once in the safety of the garden, I let her down to do her business. On this day I turned with Panicky Dog to go back up the stairs when Big Dumb Dog leapt off the fourth step onto Panicky Dog who is 1/100of his size. I was looking around for his owner, but no one was there. Big Dumb Dog was just running loose around the garden and occasionally doubling back to playfully maul me. After 5 minutes his owner came down to claim him.  I started to say he needed to be more careful when Big Dumb Dog does a flying thrust kick right in my belly. I released a not so graceful “UMPF” and spent the next few minutes doubled over; thankful I hadn’t yet eaten breakfast.

Thursday:  I had hung out with a friend the night before who made fun of her coworker for taking a massive poo at work. Oh, how we laughed.  And oh how Karma made me pay for it.  One minute, I was reading an email. The next minute I was gripped with such stomach pain that I wasn’t sure if I could stand up without an “incident”.  I ran to the unisex bathroom because it was directly across from my office.  I’ll spare you the details but it was something like the cruise incident.  As I shamefully opened the bathroom door, the cute guy at work (yes, the one who witnessed me scratching my nose) walked in behind me.  Not only did I have to endure that moment, but I was also able to witness him exiting the restroom and release the breath he was holding while in there.

Friday: I occasionally do Reiki with a woman who works out of her home, which is a little awkward when you can hear her son making a sandwich after school, but…{shrug}.  On this day her husband was in the driveway when I got there and looked surprised to see me.  He kept stepping in my way as if not to let me pass. I informed him that I had an appointment with his wife and attempted to step past him.  Again he blocked me.  He then informed me that his wife wasn’t home.  After driving 40 minutes to get to her house in the middle of nowhere, I was losing my patience and again huffed that I had an appointment.  He then informed me that her mother had just passed away and they were in the middle of making preparations to leave town. 

I was flooded with so many emotions at one time that it overloaded my verbal filter and the first words that came tumbling out of my mouth were “But… I have an appointment!”  Horror registered on both our faces.  I quickly recuperated, but the damage was done.