Totally Awkward Tuesday

For the original Totally Awkward Tuesday, visit Tova Darling.

I have to give a shout out to Mjenks and his birthday post to his wife and daughter that is totally not family friendly! When I read that, it made me remember this little incident.

I had been dating a guy I'll call RJ (the R standing for Redneck) for about 9 months when he asked me to marry him. Even though he was pretty rough around the edges, I thought I was in love with him. He and my two year old son were definitely in love with each other, that sweetened the deal. I was living with my sister at the time, so when one of his father's rental properties opened up in the next town the next logical step seemed to be for us to move in together.

I loved the house we moved into, which was actually a little shit hole, but it was out in the middle of nowhere. The yard backed right into a huge state park, where it was not unusual for deer and coyotes to wander through, and you couldn't see or hear the neighbors because the houses were spaced so far apart. We even had moose and black bear sightings in our town. I'm a city girl, it took a little getting used to.

When I say RJ was a redneck, I'm not joking. He was a tobacco chewin', beer drinkin', gun totin', big truck drivin', gramatically challenged, pee off the back deck kind of guy. His parents had worked hard and made some money, but they were also salt of the earth, just plain nice people. I really liked them, and his sisters, and they welcomed me and my son into their family with open arms.

The night we moved in, his parents came over with a plant and some beer, making sure everything went smoothly for us. I thought that was really kind. RJ's friends had helped us move, and then we went to a local pub where we paid them back in beer and pub food. I had an overnight sitter and didn't have to be anywhere too early the next day. We were too tired the night of the move, and possibly too inebriated, to christen the house properly. That wasn't the case when we woke up the next morning.

We started doing the things a young couple does the first morning in their new home when they have an overnight sitter and the whole house to themselves. And because we were alone for possibly the first time ever, we didn't bother closing the bedroom door or being particularly quiet about what we were doing. Until I heard a noise. Not a being in the middle of the woods noise, a noise inside the house.

"RJ, did you hear that?" He was too busy, and hadn't heard anything. He got me to focus again on the task at hand for a short while until I heard the noise again. "RJ, I swear I heard something!" He tried to convince me it was just the cats, but I knew my cats weren't heavy enough to make the stairs leading up from the locked front door into the living area creak. The mood was lost for me and I made him get up to investigate. I had images of bears in our living room, or at the very least rabid raccoons who could manipulate a locked door.

The first thing RJ did was check the bedroom window that looked out on the driveway. He looked at me all confused and said, "my father's truck is in the driveway". I threw on a bathrobe and went out into the hallway leading to the living area - sure enough there was his father standing at the top of the stairs with a big shit-eatin' grin on his face.

RJ trailed behind me in his boxers and we exchanged good-mornings. RJ and his father were now both wearing shit-eatin' grins - my face was an unusual shade of pink. I offered his father a cup of coffee, but he just held up his hand that already had a Dunkin' Donuts cup in it. He said he was just stopping by to make sure things had gone okay with the move, which I was pretty sure we had already established the evening before. He said that he had knocked on the door, but we obviously didn't hear it. And then he just stood there grinning at us. When the silence and awkwardness threatened to become overbearing, I announced I was headed for the shower and turned and walked back down the hallway.

I heard RJ and his father saying goodbye, and his father walking down the stairs. Then I heard what I assumed was the front door opening. My mortification quickly turned to anger - I don't if any of you know, but I have a little bit of a temper.

I whipped open the bathroom door and confronted RJ with "You have to nip this in the bud, NOW! Just because he has a key DOES NOT mean he has the right to let himself in when he knocks on the door and doesn't get an answer! For God's sake, it's 9:00 on a Saturday morning! We have a right to our privacy! How long was he standing there listening to us having sex after letting himself into our house - And Still Didn't Leave?! Dude, that's weird! I will not live like this, wondering when your parents are just going to let themselves in to our home! You had better take care of this, or I will!"

RJ just stared at me open mouthed while I again heard a door downstairs open and close. RJ knew, but hadn't gotten the chance to tell me that his father was going into the basement to check the dehumidifier before he left. So, he not only heard us having sex, he heard me totally bitch his son out about him.

It was awkward in the extreme at the time, and especially awkward at every gathering after that as they made it the running family joke. His parents never showed up without calling first after that.

Totally awkward Tuesday, late night edition

I haven't done a Totally Awkward Tuesday post in a while, but this morning was just perfect for it. To see the original lady, go to Secret Life of Tova Darling.

I had a little bit of a rough morning, couldn't quite wake up. Have you ever had one of those days where you are operating in a daze? This was my day (daze).

Before 8am, 2 co-workers and I started talking about our boss's dental issues. Somehow, we went from there to our own dental and orthodontia issues while growing up. Both of them had braces. We joked about how our teeth were still constantly shifting as we got older. One of the ladies said that her 12 year old daughter would have her braces coming off soon.

She told us that the new rules of orthodontia called for her daughter to wear her retainer well into her twenties to make up for this shifting of teeth we had been speaking of. Before I ever even thought about it for a second, I said, "Well, that should help keep her a virgin!".

Three seconds later, we all looked at each other, and I started apologizing profusely to the HR lady for the inappropriate comments I made about her 12 year old daughter, while the other lady was laughing so hard that I wondered if she was wearing a diaper to help with her peeing her pants.

As I tried to explain to the lady who wasn't the mother of the child I insulted, I have to keep a vigilant watch at all times. If I let my guard down for even one second, my brain will let my mouth say whatever it wants to at any time.

Totally awkward Thursday

This past weekend seemed rough to me. But I have to be brought down a notch or two, because this weekend was ridiculously hard on some members of my extended family.

One of my cousins passed away this past weekend at the age of 39. He apparently had high blood pressure, but wasn't consistent with taking his medication. He had some type of a flu-like virus last week, but seemed to be feeling better. About 10 minutes after speaking with his parents on the phone, while watching television with his wife and 3 kids, he got up to get something to drink and an aspirin. He collapsed, and apparently that was it. He had a massive cerebral hemorrhage. They kept him on life support long enough for his parents and brother and friends to get there to say goodbye. When they took him off, he died immediately.

If you know me at all, you know I have difficulty making small talk under normal circumstances. Add death to the mix, and I clam up because I don't know what the heck to say and don't want to say the wrong thing. I'm already in a fog this week, not sleeping well worrying about my son. In addition, the anniversary of my brother's death is coming up this weekend.

We couldn't not go, so my sister and I set out to the wake yesterday afternoon. I was freaking out because I just couldn't imagine what I would possibly say to his parents, but especially his wife. How lame does "I'm sorry" and "what a tragedy" sound after I'm sure they've heard that at least one thousand times?

The widow was exceptionally well composed. She was wearing a black sweater set with white piping, and by the time we got to her the white piping had a huge black mark on it that was obviously teary mascara. The widow is a tall woman, and she wasn't wearing any mascara. She's the kind of person that asked how You were doing, how are You holding up under the circumstances, with a smile on her face.

I hugged and kissed her, I gave her my "I'm sorry" and "what a tragedy". And, before I knew it, I put the piping of her sweater set between my fingers and tried to help rub out the mascara stain. I actually said out loud, "Sweetie, you've got to stop letting people cry on you!".

Luckily, she laughed. She even said, "Oh, Fancy, you're never going to change", like she thought it was funny. I will always cringe in horror every time I remember that moment, wondering if I ever will change...

Totally Awkward Tuesday

Tova at Tova Darling hosts Totally Awkward Tuesdays. Here's my submission this week - for once it's not about me! Yay!

You may remember me talking about this girl I work with, Laverne. She's the control freak who's job I covered when she had emergency surgery in December. Yeah, that's still an ongoing battle, but whatevs. I do what my boss tells me to do and try my best to ignore her.

Ignoring her is very difficult sometimes, because as soon as she opens her mouth, she sets my teeth on edge. She speaks her own kind of made up language, and speaks it in a nasally whine. She overemphasizes every syllable of the word she's misusing, all while sighing dramatically and wildly waving her hands around and shaking her head back and forth and rolling her eyes. Sometimes it's annoying, sometimes it's amusing. An example, "OOOOOOOH, that BOY, he SHOULDa DID it YESterDAY!". Or, "OOOOOOOOH, that BOY, he's KILLin' me DEAD!".

She outdid herself last week. Someone paid an old bill and I gave her a copy of the check. Apparently this made her even more excited than usual. As she was walking down the hall she exclaimed at the top of her lungs, "WELL! WONders never deCEASED!"

My buddy Pete poked his head out of the copy room across from me looking totally bewildered. Thank god she was walking away, because I started giggling and couldn't stop. When I finally caught my breath, Pete asked me, "what the fuck was That?".

That, my friend, is Laverne, in all her glory.

Totally awkward Tuesday

Tova Darling runs a weekly embarrassment fest called Totally Awkward Tuesday. This is my weekly entry.

Do you remember grade school? Do you remember that although some kids were on the fringes, most kids were either in or they were out? I remember the school that I was in from 2nd-7th grade. Even though it was a small town, and each grade had only 30-40 kids in it, it was extremely divided in terms of who was popular and who was not. The wealthier and more good looking kids rose to the top, then the athletic kids and the outgoing kids. Down around the bottom were the kids like me.

I was never one of the wealthy kids. I was also never one of the athletic kids, although I tried. I played softball, I took dance lessons, I tried out for cheerleading. Nothing fixes clumsy, and I will always be a clumsy person, without grace, no matter how hard I try.

I never wore the right clothes, my family didn't have the money for the right Jordache jeans or the popular hairstyles. Even though I tried by being part of the choir and the drama club, I was painfully shy, and quite honestly I was one of the weird kids.

I never knew how to behave normally in front of people, and still don't. My usual response is to clam up so I don't embarrass myself any more than is necessary. Add to that, I started to gain weight in third grade, and around the same time I had to start wearing glasses.

Fast forward to fifth grade. We're halfway through the year, and having a test in math. I don't know why I remember that I was wearing brown corduroys and a red sweater, but there it is. Picture a quiet classroom, everyone intent on their test in front of them. Picture me, the clumsy girl, dropping my pencil. Of course, the pencil rolled out into the aisle, so I had to get up and go retrieve it.

Then picture me bending over, in brown corduroys, in the middle of a quiet test-taking classroom to retrieve my pencil, and involuntarily passing gas. Loudly. I never felt it coming, and I will never forget the sound of laughter afterward.

From that day on I was known as "Farty-four-eyes". I'm so glad we moved at the end of 7th grade...

Totally awkward (and tasteless) Tuesday

Continuing a tradition started by Tova Darling, here is my weekly awkward moment.

Before I go any further, I really need to assure anyone reading this that I am not a racist person - I hate everyone. Just kidding, sort of. I'm easily the kind of person who's humor crosses the line of what might be considered good taste.

Growing up, the most favorite books of my brother and I were the "Totally Tasteless Jokes" series. Remember those? Everyone was fair game in those books. Ethnicity, religion, skin color, Helen Keller, whatever, whoever. Insults all around.

In the privacy of my own home, where I don't think anyone's feelings are going to get hurt, sometimes perhaps I jested too much. Note the emphasis on I don't think. Nothing brought it home to me further than what happened this one time when my son was about four years old. This was 10 years ago, and I have learned from this.

At the time, we were living about 45 minutes away from where I had him in daycare. If I had to run any errands after picking him up at 5:30 PM, I needed to make sure to feed him so he wouldn't have a meltdown in a store. This particular day, I decided we would eat quickly at one of those take out Chinese food places that was in the same plaza as the grocery store. Do you know the kind of place I'm talking about? They're mainly set up for take out or delivery, not a sit down restaurant. There are a couple of booths in front of a counter, in front of an open doorway to the kitchen, and if you want to sit and eat, it's self-serve only. The only decorations are usually a colorful calendar on the wall, a plant or two, and the obligatory fish tank.

I placed an order at the counter and my son and I sat at a booth. The place was dead quiet except for the sounds coming from the kitchen and the air bubbler of the fish tank. When our order came up, I paid and brought the bag to the table. As I was opening the packages, my four year old bellowed at the top of his lungs, "You rikey Chinee foo, Mommy?".

I didn't even look to see if anyone had heard him. I just put his coat on, grabbed the bag of food and the kid, and walked out.

Eating dinner in the car - $20.00

Having your four year old unintentionally tell you what an asshole you are - priceless.

Totally awkward Tuesday

Continuing a tradition started by Tova Darling, here is my weekly awkward moment.

For the most part, my sisters and I don't exchange Christmas presents. A few years ago, my sister Shouf decided she was going to get everyone a little something. She is disabled and lives on an extremely limited budget. She got all three of her sisters, 2 nieces, and both her parents each a $5 gift card to The Christmas Tree Shop. Knowing how much that cost her, I was very touched. It was not only thoughtful, but exceedingly self-less. She has no money, and chose to spend every extra dollar she had that month to buy gifts for others.

That was around the same time I was trying to turn my son's room into the Asian beauty that it was. Right after Christmas, The Christmas Tree Shop was running a special on bamboo blinds. I took my gift card and repeatedly said to myself, "I'm only going to buy bamboo blinds, I'm only going to buy bamboo blinds". I saw about 150 other things that I wanted to buy, but I stuck to my guns. If you can go to the Christmas Tree Shop and get out without spending hundreds of dollars, you know what I'm talking about.

The cashier was the type that just chirped randomly about anything that came into her little head. She chattered away while she rang up my blinds, and the total came to $8.30. I handed her my $5.00 gift card and started searching my coin purse for the balance. Her chattering turned into, "I can't believe someone would be cheap enough to give you a $5 dollar gift card. I mean, c'mon, five dollars. Who would do that? What a loser..."

I'm sorry, did she just say, "loser"? Bitch just insulted my sister.

Before I could even stop myself, I very calmly let loose. "The person you just called a loser is my sister. My DISABLED sister. I was happy to have gotten ANY gift from my DISABLED sister. Do you have any idea how difficult it was for her to give five dollar gift cards from the store that Employs You? Maybe you should think before you speak."

She was still picking her jaw up off the floor when I walked out, amid dead silence from the people standing in line behind me.

I may be awkward white trash to take a cashier down a notch, but you don't mess with my sisters...

Totally awkward Tuesday

Continuing a tradition started by Tova Darling, here is my weekly awkward moment. Again, not my fault!

I was in a shoe store on New Year's Eve day, trying to find a new pair of shoes or boots that I could wear not only that night, but also use when I started my new job the next week. I already had on the rest of the outfit I planned to wear that night, and thought I looked pretty darn cute.

A woman browsing the aisle I was in stopped to admire my sleeping baby in his carrier. After the obligatory oohing and aahing, she asked how old he was. I answered that he was almost 6 months old. She responded, "Oh my, and another on the way so soon?".

Um, no. Still just fat from this one. Thanks for noticing.

Isn't there a law or something about not asking if a woman is pregnant until she brings it up herself?

Totally awkward Tuesday

Continuing a tradition started by Tova Darling, here is my weekly awkward moment. Amazingly, this one wasn't even my fault!

In 1993 I decided to get my first tattoo. My best buddy at the time, who had many tattoos herself, set up an appointment for me with her tattoo artist, The Wizard. He was just setting up a new shop, and I may have been one of his first customers at the new location. The Wizard agreed to open the place off-hours for me so I could have some privacy.

I wanted something discreet, and private. I would know it was there, but no one else would unless I chose to show it to them. I got a small tattoo on my lower abdomen, a little above the hair line on my right pelvic bone. Holy crap, did that hurt!

The Wizard, being a man of few words, waited until after he finished to give me 2 pieces of his wisdom. The first, "That was one of the most painful spots you could have chosen to get a tattoo.". Thanks for waiting until after to share that with me. The second, "Boy are you going to regret that if you ever get pregnant.". No problem, I didn't plan on ever having children. I rocked my bikini after that with my tat showing when I wanted it to!

A year and a half later, I'd gained 80 pounds and my tattoo had stretch marks running through it. My very private tattoo, and a lot of other very private things were all on display for a roomful of people. As I prepared to push an alien with a shoulder circumference of 14 centimeters out of a hole that had only dilated 10 centimeters, the delivering obstetrician decided it would be a good time to pay me a compliment.

Dumbass said, "I like your whale tattoo!"

Mid-contraction, I responded, or possibly screamed, "IT WAS A DOOOOLLLPHIIIINNN!".

The next tattoo I got was on the ankle. No stretch marks there.

Totally awkward Tuesday

Tova Darling started a great new thing called Totally Awkward Tuesday. I have a feeling I am going to excel at this game! Yay, me!

A few years ago, I was totally crushing on a guy at work. His name was Larry. Actually it still is. As I have mentioned previously, I made a decision many years ago not to date any longer. I especially am not going to date someone I work with. Never, ever shit where you eat, people. Never. One of the many reasons I don't date any longer is because I have lousy taste in men. Larry was definitely a bad boy. I can't help an attraction, I can only control how I react to it.

He was a little older, made no effort to hide the fact that he drank too much and loved the weed, had a great sense of humor and a bad temper, wore cowboy boots with faded jeans and a leather belt, and had piercing blue eyes and graying hair. It worked for him, and Boy, Oh, Boy did it work for me.

We enjoyed a work camaraderie, nothing special, and I made certain not to put myself in any situations where I would feel awkward or go out of my way to embarrass myself. No happy hours with the crew for me - I have a child at home, I don't drink and drive. No going to summer parties at co-workers' houses - I don't drive at night. Oh, Larry lives near you, he can take you home - I already have plans, thanks.

Out of the blue on a Saturday afternoon, Larry called my unlisted home number, which I did not give to him. We chatted for a minute about nothing in particular while my mind was racing. How did he get my number, and Why on Earth was he calling me? There was an uncomfortable pause in the conversation, and then it hit me. Oh my god, he was going to ask me out! My mouth got dry and my heart felt like it was in my throat. How was I going to turn him down? Was I going to be able to turn him down? Unbidden thoughts of his ass and long legs in faded Levis flashed in front of my eyes.

He stammered, "Um, I got your number from Janet..." fellow co-worker and friend, "and, um, you know it's just my teenage son and I at my house, and I know you're a single mother...". For fuck's sake, hurry up already and ask me out! "So, um, I was wondering if you would be interested..." yes, go on... "I was wondering if you would be willing to come over once a week and clean our house. I would pay you. I thought you could use the money, and Janet agreed when I asked her for your number. If not, can you recommend someone?"

Awkward for me, at least. Thank goodness he never found out what was really happening on the other end of the phone!