Your Most Embarassing Moment.

What is your most embarrassing moment...that you are willing to disclose.

I have many, but here is one that particularly humiliated me in my younger years.

I was nineteen, and had I finally was asked out by this guy that I had a crush on for a while. Our first date went really well, he asked me to hang out again the following evening. The second night, we began talking about our history in sports. I told him about how I was a Water Polo player, and he commented that I must have very strong legs. I said I did, which is true. This conversation led to a friendly wrestling match, with all my roommates and a few of his friends as spectators. I got him in a leg lock and he seriously couldn't break free, however...I may have squeezed a little too hard. I have no idea where it came from, I didn't even have a stomach ache, but I let out a huge passage of gas. This guy was totally shocked. Later, he began dating one of my roommates, who happened to be one of my best friends. They married a few years down the road. To this day, she thanks me for being such a dork, and letting one rip. She was like "Thanks for passing gay that night, if you hadn't, I don't know if I would have ended up with my husband!" She also added: "I didn't fart in front of him until after we were married, I was too afraid of freaking him out!" Yes, you are very welcome bitch.

So guys, on this note let 'em rip (your most embarrassing moments I mean.)

Back when I was in college, I came home for Thanksgiving break. During that week or so that I was home, one day I went to the mall and ate, drank, etc., etc. Soon I had to pee...bad! I'm racing home, desperately holding it. Finally, I get to the house. I didn't know that my aunt, uncle and cousins from out of town were coming. Well, to make a long story short, I walk in the door, pained by this needle-like sensation going on in my bladder, and frantic to get to the bathroom. As I'm walking out of the living room, my seven year old cousin jumps out from around the corner and yells "boo!" Well, I didn't have to use the bathroom after that, but I wound up having to change my pants.

N and Chris...great stories. Well, not to live, but to read.
Freshman year, we all in the class had to sign a "co-curricular code". This was basically our pledge that we wanted to be in sports, but had to sign a pledge that we would not drink or drug or smoke. So, basically, if anyone wanted to do anything they had to sign it. It was a huge deal, in which a parent had to be with us at a meeting after school on a set night that all Freshman were in attendance with one parent.

So, my dad and I rode with his friend Joe, and my fellow classmate, Joe's daughter. Part of the whole thing was that the county sheriff spoke to parents about drug statistics and the like. I did high school after my dad retired early to our vacation home in BFE, Wisconsin...we had lived in Chicago South Side... So, you get the setting of small mentality at this meeting. Dad thought it was a joke, I guess.
Anyway, Dad was drunk upon getting there. Upon the county sheriff beginning his speech about drug statistics in the county, Dad decided to break into his own drunken, slurred, diatribe. My five foot three Dad decided to start chanting, (while standing REPEATEDLY) "Hang 'em, lynch 'em" to any words spoken about drug sellers.

I NEVER prayed to God for my own spontaneous combustion other than that time. I was "hang 'em, lynch 'em"
girl for weeks.

I'll get back to this, lol.

When I was about 12, my family and I went to McDonalds. We ordered our burgers and french fries and were standing next to the counter along with many other people...like sardines. There were a few trays on the counter, waiting for the orders to be filled. I was so hungry, so I was munching on the french fries in front of me...well, you guessed it, a few more items were put on that particular tray and the family next to me glared and took it away because it was their order. I never eat my food until I know it's mine and I take it to my table! There are many more, but this one still makes me laugh.

I had decided that I was bored and could afford it, so I went to manicuring school right before I was pregnant with my youngest. While learning manicuring, they also teach you waxing. I love waxing, I will wax anyone, anywhere (except butts and privates). I love it. So my first day of learning waxing I did so well and was so excited that I bought all of my own equipment for home. I figured the extra practice couldn't hurt. So one Saturday morning, quite a few hours before I had dinner plans with "the girls" to celebrate one of our b-days, I decided my eyebrows could use a decent waxing. So I did the right one, no problem, came out beautiful. I applied my wax above the left eyebrow and laid the muslin strip on over and began to rub. Well, the phone rang and I answered, still rubbing the strip as I spoke. When I hung up (I never bothered to double check exactly where I was rubbing the wax into) I went right into the bathroom, grabbed the skin by the side of my eyebrow and temple and yanked the strip off. As it came off away from my face, I happened to look at it (I love to see the hair stuck to it) and noticed that the hair stuck to it was rather thick and in the exact shape of an eyebrow. I looked into the mirror and saw one beautiful eyebrow and one bald eye. I threw my hands over my face, dropped to the floor and started screaming anything and everything. My husband ran in yanked my hands away from my face, thinking I was bleeding or missing an eye or something and started to laugh so hard that he fell to the floor. The way he told the story later was that all he heard was me screaming "Oh Lord, somebody help, oh my God help me" so he didn't know what to think.

I had to go to dinner with a big drawn in eyebrow and my hair hanging over my face. During the week, I had to go to school with a bandaid over my eye because I didn't have the time to draw an eyebrow every morning. The story I gave them in school was that the girl who usually did my eyebrows left and her replacement "messed up". When they asked where I went, I told them that it would be unfair to name names, but it was in the city I lived in. This band-aid/pencil eye thing went on for two months until it grew back.

LOL, good cover.