Who Doesn't Love Embarassing Moments?

As it seems another one is biting the dust, I thought I’d take a trip down memory lane. Most of my life has been filled with completely embarrassing moments that others like to bring up and, well, if I’m being honest like to instigate. Some of them I can live down, others I just can’t. And many revolve around me and some stinking boy I liked (one could have called me boy crazy back in the day. As I’ve grown up, that hasn’t really changed:)). I guess this is as good a place as any to just throw them out there and take the embarrassment away on my own. Let’s take a look at the top five embarrassing (boy) moments from my youth:

5. Sophomore year in high school I had the hugest crush on a guy named Casey. As my initials are KC, my dear friend Jenny would find it appropriate to scream them whenever we were within two feet of each other (the guy and me). As he had no idea who I was, he’d look and get quite confused. One day he actually asked who I was and why I was standing next to him. I’m pretty sure he thought I was nuts.

4. The seventh grade school project diary I wrote on the Civil War. Sounds innocuous right? Not so much. In it I took on the last name of the (older) guy I liked from Alabama and we were married. Um, yeah his family totally got a copy of that one and it was hard to live down. In my defense, Charley was completely cute, but I may have gone slightly overboard in how much I missed him while he was “off to war”. I did get an “A” on the assignment though and it was enough to make me apply to Auburn.

3. I was stood up for Sadie Hawkins my Freshman year as my “date” Mike got back together with his (ugly) girlfriend two days before the dance. He had forgotten to tell me and I had already purchased (hideous horizontal stripe) shirts. Not one to be deterred and having to find a date as my mom was set to drive two other couples, I had to find someone. That was our friend Justin and somehow we got “married” that night with the picture making it to the yearbook. Everyone thought we were dating. Not that there was anything wrong with Justin, he just wasn’t football/basketball/baseball captain material like Mike was. I never lived that picture down and I still blame Mike.

2. There’s a Denny’s in Hampton, VA that I’m not allowed in at the same time as one of my ex boyfriends. We had a very spirited discussion in the restaurant about his “friendship” with other girls and just how friendly it was. I *may* have raised my voice considerably during this time and *may* have decided that climbing over the table was appropriate. This may have been after he gave details that weren’t really necessary. We may have been causing a scene that others stopped eating to watch. It didn’t get a whole lot better from there and we were politely asked to leave. On the way out, they suggested that it would be better if we never returned at the same time. And that the suggestion was more of a mandate.

1. It’s safe to say I made my way though many of the boat racing guys I grew up with or knew (get your mind out of the gutter, I mean I dated or kissed most of them, nothing icky going on there. I was a good Catholic girl). There was one however that didn’t quite see the appeal of dating me and I just liked him a lot and hoped that he’d come around (such a change from my life now right????). Anyway, on the way back from a race a million miles away, we had a caravan of trucks and boats all keeping contact with CBs. Again, nothing that sounds dangerous there. Well, as we entered later in the night the conversation took an ugly turn and while we thought the person in question was sleeping, one of my friends thought it a nice idea to talk to his crew chief about my crush. This would have been slightly fine if all the other trucks couldn’t hear it too, including the girl I thought he liked. And if he was really sleeping. About two minutes before we were stopping at a restaurant for a late dinner, he came on and said he heard everything and that there was no chance. Um, awkward much? Upon arriving at the restaurant I promptly exited the vehicle and tried to hide under a newspaper stand.

Is it any wonder I turned out the way I did?

How Do You Spell Together?

Back in the day I had this best friend I’ll call Blondie. In an effort of full disclosure I’ll report that we are no longer friends and have not spoken in almost 16 years. There’s a myriad of reasons why we don’t but let’s just say we had differing world views at the tender age of 17 and it never really got any better.

At any rate, Blondie and I were pretty much inseparable but we had very defined roles in our friendship which anyone will tell you isn’t the healthiest thing around. She was the “pretty and fun” one while I was the “smart and nice” one. As most teenage girls will do, we each wanted to be part of the other person’s descriptives and it caused some tension.

I’m digressing from the point but I think you should have an idea of how tempestuous our relationship was to fully understand my frustrations sometimes.

So Blondie never had a shortage of guys who would fawn all over her. And I do mean a gaggle and I do mean fawning. There were some that she was “just friends” with that seemed enamoured with her and I’m not sure she even knew. There was one that I’ll call Suave that started out as a friend and I think they may have dated but I’m not completely sure.

By second semester senior year I was no longer on the sidelines in terms of fully participating in liquid festivities at parties and babysitting/telling Blondie what she did the night before because, well, sometimes I was a little fuzzy on my own details let alone hers. As we did every partying weekend, we were staying at my house as I didn’t have a curfew and my parents were pretty cool about things (Thanks Mom!).

It was late and all I wanted to do was go to sleep but Blondie had to talk slur to Suave at some un-Godly hour. She picks up the phone and calls him, adamant that she must profess her true feelings at THAT EXACT MOMENT. It couldn’t wait, he had to know. Now my room isn’t that big so I’m clearly along for the ride. She’s laying on the floor practically eating the phone in an attempt to “be quiet” and tell Suave that they should date.

Apparently Suave couldn’t understand her or he was too drunk himself as he had been at the same party. Blondie keeps repeating that she just “wants to be with him.” He’s not catching on so she starts this conversation:

Blondie: I just want us to be together.
Suave: Huh, what did you say about forever?
Blondie: No, I said together.
Suave: Why are you talking about the weather right now?”
Blondie: Together, Suave. Together.
Suave: (mumbled, I couldn’t hear)
Blondie: Yeah, I us together.
Suave: I don’t know what you’re saying.
(It is fair to say by this point I was losing my ish and I decided to part of the conversation.)
Kiki: No, together. Together together together. T-O-G-E-T-H-E fucking R together!

They quickly got off the phone at that point as I believe they got my hint that I was tired and it was time for bed.

Point of this story? I can no longer spell together without spelling it out just like I did back then with the expletive in the middle. I know, it’s childish and horribly inappropriate but darn it, it works for me:)

Can You See Them?

I had to turn in my old lease and get a new car this week and it was quite a traumatic experience. Ok, I might be slightly exaggerating but I was downsizing from a cute crossover to a sedan. A friggin sedan. What’s next, the soccer mom haircut without the soccer kids? Anyway, I was trying to make the best of the situation and find all the silver linings to a new vehicle when I started to think about cars of my past and how awesome they were. How could this new one ever live up?

My first car that was mine and by mine I mean I was the primary driver was a 1992 red Ford Probe that we called “Little Red Ford Probe” since it rhymed so well with a great Prince song and it was 1994. Her name was Baby and I have to tell you that this car rocked. I may have been ruined for life as no other car could ever match the fun times, complete hysterics and non-monetary features that the LRFP had.

For example, there were people that lived in my car. Yes, people we called Them. Why you ask? Simple, think of the Pearl Jam song “Yellow LedBetter” and the line that says “can you see them, out on the porch but they don’t wave.” To be fair, we were 17/18, Eddie Vedder was hot and so was a guy in class that was obsessed with him so we may have had a few too many giggles over coming up with this. My good friend C (the co-queen of Slurpees) helped come up with the name and to this day we still laugh about it.

For the most part, the people were pretty cool. They’d be helpful and turn the radio station or make sure my lights were on, things like that. But they could also be vindictive little buggers. They apparently wanted C to stop smoking as they’d steal her cigarettes. Other odd items like tapes(!) would go missing. A scraper here or there and at least a few items of clothing that I’m not completely sure how they were left but they were and went missing too. And change? Don’t even think there’d be anything left. It sometimes made crossing the border to go to Canada for a few refreshments an interesting experience. Again, this was the age where hanging out at Denny’s was the perfect end to an evening.

Oh, and the people migrated to the next vehicle, my little Billy Girl Truck. She was a good sport (and had a few minor run ins with poles in carports) but there weren’t the great stories like the LRFP. And it was a truck. Minus the sandbags I had to buy in the winter to even out weight it was a great little vehicle. Too bad I ran it in to the ground.

Next were the two Mariners (both white, both looking the same and they were Ghost One and Ghost 2). I got my groove back with them and the last few years were great feeling like I was in a cool car (legitimate moonroof, not fake one you make by taking the sunroof out) and I had room for people, lawn chairs, moving 17 times. It was all good again. And with the advent of a six-disc CD changer, who could ask for anything more?

As for my new car, it doesn’t have a name and as of yet doesn’t have a personality that it’s shown (at least not yet). Perhaps she (he?) just needs to warm up to me a bit. I mean, that should be easy with remote start and all but I’m trying to remain positive. Who knows, maybe if I just get a Slurpee and play some Pearl Jam things will work out…