An Unfortunate Chain of Events

A very good friend of mine tore her knee out playing soccer (which is why you should NEVER play soccer) and is having surgery on Monday. In her honour, I will relate to you a story that is not my most embarrassing moment, but hers. And I'm so thankful that I had the privilege of being there as a witness. (In all actuality, if I hadn't been there, none of this would have happened, so while I will take the blame, I will not take the shame.)

It all started in the afternoon. Madame K (as I will refer to her as) and I were at her house picking on her younger brother. It progressed into us hiding his bus pass (Mistake Number 1) and then leaving. We had big plans for the evening. We were going to play Monopoly and drink beers at my boyfriend's house. And since I was so responsible, I told my mother what was going to be happening and that I would be spending the night there ON THE COUCH. Of course I had to lie to her about sleeping on the couch, but it was a small one, and I'm sure she knew where I would be sleeping. Madame K, on the other hand, told her parents she was staying at my house (Mistake Number 2).

We had to wait for "Dave" to get off work and neither of us wanted to risk being at our own homes, in case my mother came to her senses about allowing me to spend the night at my boyfriend's, or her brother realised his bus pass was missing and made a scene. So we did what all well adjusted sixteen year old girls do, we played Monopoly in the back of my van, and changed our clothes numerous times.

Finally "Dave" got home from work and the serious business of our first over-nighter at a boy's place began. There was beer involved, but since neither Kirstin (pardon me, Madame K) or I liked beer, I believe something harder was brought out (mistake Number 3). We did play Monopoly, and I think other things... maybe cards, I don't remember, but we did eventually go to bed. Madame K and "Dave's" friend "Ryan" slept on the couches, and I slept in "Dave's" bed. Nothing worth mentioning happened, except that "Ryan" removed his shirt and jeans in order to be more comfortable while sleeping (Mistake Number 4).

The next morning, unbeknownst to us, events were unfolding that were going to come to a head on the doorstep of "Dave's" house.

The bus pass was found to be missing, a call was placed to my house, looking for Madame K and Mr and Mrs "Smith" were told that Madame K and I had spent the night at elsewhere, namely a boy's house. A little side note here, when I told my mother what I would be doing that night, I told her two lies, not one. She asked me if Madame K's parents were aware of our plan and were okay with it. I said yes (Mistake Number 5). Back to the drama, our parents discovered they had been deceived, and perhaps the most unfortunate thing of all, my mother knew where "Dave" lived, and also had the phone number.

While all of this was taking place, "Ryan" discovered that he had left his medication (for what I don't know but I sure it was something disgusting, knowing him) at home and called his mom to get her to bring it over. When there was a knock at the door, "Ryan" went up to answer it wearing nothing but his undies and a blanket. HA HA. It turns out it was not "Ryan's" mother but Madame K's FATHER!!!!!!!

In a barely controlled voice he asked if Madame K was there and "Ryan" came down to tell her the news, although we had all heard it. Belongings were hastily thrown into the bag, and as she was taken away, the telephone rang. It was my mother. She demanded that I come home immediately. I was obliged to oblige. There was one little problem. My keys were no where to be found. "Dave's" house was torn apart. My van was torn apart, there were no keys to be had. And then I remembered. We put the keys in Madame K's bag to keep them from being lost. I had to call her house and speak to her mother (easily the most formidable of the two [her dad and my dad went to high school together in Three Hills, where they got into touble, and by coincidence Madame K and I met in phys ed many years later, so he was a little more forgiving of our shenanigans than he should have been]), and then "Dave" drove me to her house where I had to face her parents in person, and I was briefly allowed to see Madame K but she had yet to meet her fate so we didn't know what she was in for.

"Dave" took me back to his place, where I departed for home. Upon my arrival, the keys were removed from my possession and I was most unfairly grounded, for lying to my mother and causing her subsequent embarrassment. I didn't think I should be grounded but you cannot argue with that woman when her mind has been made up. I don't remember what happened to Madame K, I'm sure it was a grounding as well .... OH WAIT, I believe it was the most uncomfortable conversation imaginable - the Sex Talk!!

We learned a very valuable lesson that weekend. If you are going to be doing things you know your parents would not approve of, always, ALWAYS, keep in mind that everything you do is leaving a trail, so be very careful of your actions leading up to the mischief that you are planning to get into. We would have gotten away with everything if we hadn't hid that bus pass.

The Hypocrisy That Is I

In the past five years, every one of my morals has been gingerly stepped over and then set aside and forgotten.

I protested at the G8 summit when it was in Calgary, marching throughout downtown core and shouting taunts at all the oil companies. Now I live very comfortably off proceeds of petroleum and drive a gas-guzzling SUV.

I refused to wear, own, or eat any product that came from an animal. Now I enjoy eating flesh, wearing flesh, and owning furniture made of flesh.

I balked at the travesty of brand name clothing like Polo and Tommy Hilfiger and their exploitation of the Third World. Now my absolute favorite piece of clothing I own is an argyle Hilfiger sweater vest that is to die for.

I swore that no man would ever own me. My current occupation is kept woman and I can honestly say it's the best job I've ever had.

I still recycle everything I can, I will never wear fur, I vote in every election I can in order to honour the suffragettes who fought for my right to be classified as a person in the eyes of the law, and while I don't support the war in Iraq, I do support the soldiers who risk everything in order to do what they believe is right. So I guess, while I have relaxed my moral standing a bit from say ten years ago, I think I'm still an all right person. (And the irony of the last statement is it comes just before a post that highlights all of my worst behaviors)

Hall of Shame

I was recently asked what the worst thing I'd ever done was. That is what I'd call a really good question. What is the worst thing I've ever done? I had to stop and think about it, because like my most embarrassing things, there's a lot of material.

Things like convincing my youngest brother he was adopted and that's why he's blond and blue eyed while the rest of us have green eyes and brown hair (but never telling him that he looks exactly like our Scottish gran-dad - Sorry Thomas), or being so horrible to my middle brother that he ran away from home and lived with his friend for a year (Sorry Michael), or not going to see my oldest brother's baby in the hospital because I was too stoned (Sorry Rory).

And then there's the open tuna can hidden in a girl's locker, the mean things I did to my cousin Sarah, calling my Grade 8 science teacher a stupid fucking retard (actually screaming it at him through a closed door during class), making boys think I liked them and then publicly humiliating them, stealing the virginity of many boys and laughing at them when they cried after, being an all-round out of control teenager and being responsible for nearly all of my mother's grey hair, sneaking my friends into my Granny's basement during lunch in order for them to get drunk off my dead gran-dad's wine, getting suspended every year from grade seven to grade twelve, treating my entire step-family, especially my step-sister (Sorry Krista) like garbage, dumping the contents of a public trash can into the car of a girl who I didn't care for (and then having to run barefoot from the police through backyards in Three Hills because I gave my shoes to a girl who had snuck out of the PBI) and then after I was caught and forced to clean it out by the police, throwing out all of her cassettes as well as the garbage, totally power-tripping on kids who were a lower rank than me when I was an air cadet (yes I'm admitting to being in cadets, and it made me a better person so I don't want any flack for it), swearing at old people when I worked at Superstore, swearing at old people when I worked at the Stanford Inn... The list obviously goes on and on.

There is a whole litany of things from when I worked at the Buffalo, because I started working there in order to NOT have to be nice to people any more. I threw a drink on an old lady because she said I couldn't sing (which was only the truth), I threw a glass at someone and it shattered against the wall, I threw a handicapped guy out the door because I thought he was drunk (but he was only retarded - that one I feel really, really bad for), being mean to a sixteen year old girl who was hooking herself out for meth (and is more than likely dead now), and then of course, the giant mural of Miss Piggy fucking a buffalo in the ass I left on the white board as an ode to the bitch of a new manager the night I quit. Actually, I not going to call that one of my worst acts, I'm going to call it hilarious because the doddering old lady that worked days in the Buff didn't even see it and it was up for a long time.

None of these quite compare to what I would deem my worst act ever. That award goes to the time I made out with the Groom at a wedding I attended when I was seventeen. I'm going to say that it was a far worse thing for the Groom to do, but I definitely knew better and as I was there not only as a guest of the bride, but also as a representative of my air cadet squadron (which shows I was one of her favorites), it was by far the most inappropriate thing I've ever done.

Boy Was My Face Red II

First of all, I would like to apologise to my adoring public whom, I'm sure, have been waiting extraordinarily patiently for a new post, so if there is anyone out there still reading, the day has finally come.


As an apology, I would like to offer up the next installment of:

MY MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENTS (II)

I have been trying to come up with more, because there are so many, such as falling asleep in a tanning bed, which turned out to be my most embarrassing week and a half, or working at the Buffalo, which could be called my most embarrassing two years, but I've settled on three more gems that I'm sure will be greatly enjoyed.

My roommate and partner-in-crime Amy and I decided a late-night trip to Boston Pizza was in order. I can guarantee that pot marijuana was involved, as that is the only way I would have gone, but I digress. As it was a late night venture, we were both fashionably dressed in very large, very baggy sweat pants and as BP's was only a ten minute walk, walk is what we did. For those of you unfamiliar with my place of residence, it was in a complex of "condominiums" that were originally built as barracks to house trainees for WW II. They were old and decrepit, but they were across Gaetz from Mort's and that was what mattered. No worries about cab fare = more money for drinking. But I digress (again). Amy and I were returning from our late night foray and decided ten minutes was too long to walk, as it was cold and windy and decided to take the short cut, which involved trespassing through the Red Deer County yard and two chain link fences. I think you may have guessed where this is going. We made it over the first fence with nary a problem, skipped our way through the yard and came to the second, and bigger, fence. Amy hopped over with no problem. I climbed up and as I hopped over the top, my sweats snagged on the wire and I was stuck. I was hanging there like a coat on a hook. Like a picture on a wall. Like an idiot on a fence. Amy was a great help, she literally was rolling on the ground in a fit of laughter. And all I could do was hang there. This fence backed onto the parking lot of my block. I was within sight of my home. And just when I thought it couldn't get worse, a car drove in. This fence backs onto the entrance of the parking lot of my block. Yes, my neighbours saw me hanging from the fence. And they were so helpful that they drove past and waved, causing Amy to resume her fit of laughter. So I hung there as cars drove by, with Amy rolling around on the ground, until she regained her composure long enough to grab me by the legs and rip me off the fence, leaving the seat of my pants on the fence, and all of my dignity somewhere on the other side of it.

The next event on my trail of disgrace would have to be my 24th birthday. I was still working at the Buffalo, and had to work that day. It was the 10:00 to 4:00 shift, so I was off early and could still go out to celebrate. Or that was the plan. I instead started drinking around 2:00, so I was pretty drunk by the time I got off work. I remember doing shots with my greatest admirer, Rod the Indian (not to be confused with Rod my Father). I remember going to the Arlington with Rod the Indian. I remember doing shots at the Arlington with Rod the Indian. I vaguely remember leaving the Arlington to return to the Buffalo with Rod the Indian, and I know it must have been after 8:00, because I remember the band playing. And then I remember nothing, until my roommate and other partner in crime Candace and the bartender Keith were picking me off the bathroom floor and put me into her car. Yes, that's right. I am admitting to passing out on the bathroom floor at the Buffalo. And I don't recommend it. Candace took me home (apparently, but I don't remember it) and put me to bed, and then went out to celebrate my birthday with all of our friends. What I do remember is waking up at 4:00 am and thinking that the clock was wrong and wondering why no one was home. Candace and our friend Neil came home right after I woke up and we smoked a joint and she filled me in on what I had done earlier in the evening. I remember denying everything and I going back to bed. I think the worst part about this whole incident, is that while I have forgotten everything about the event, no one else has. That and the fact that I know what kind of terrors reside on the bathroom floor in the Buffalo. I'm probably lucky I didn't catch anything.

The last story that I will recount this time is a beauty I like to refer to as the family reunion. I was at the bar with Candace and others, and Candace introduced me to her friend, whom I will refer to as Mr F, to protect the both of us. Mr F and I hit it off and spent the night talking and such, and it eventually turned to kissing and such. As we were still in the bar it never progressed past that stage. While we were still talking and such, he mentioned he was going to a family reunion the next day, which was a coincidence because I was as well. If we had not been drinking I'm sure that we would have explored the issue a little further than we did, but I digress. After the bar closed, we toyed with the idea of me going home with him, but there were the reunions in the morning so it was decided we would exchange numbers instead. The next day, I drove to Markerville to the big reunion and was hanging with my family when a man and another familiar guy came ambling up to where we were. My mom stood up and hugged the man and then turned to me and said, "Have you met my cousin W** F**** and his son Mr F?" All I said was, "I've met Mr F." We spent many uncomfortable minutes while my mother and her cousin caught up, and then they finally left. Needless to say, Mr F never called me.

I don't know if I'll continue this series because while it is a great source of entertainment, it has also served to remind me just how much of an idiot I can be, and I really don't need that kind of reminder. Anyway, I hope that it was enjoyed.