In a quest to keep the lovelies (that's you, Gentle Reader) satisfied I offer this:
Most Embarrassing Moments EVER, from the life of Miss Kitti. (ps, don't judge me!)
**Disclaimer** The first story might not be for the easily grossed out or squirmy. Or men. You might not want to read this if you're a man. I'm just saying...
Also, at some point I will be using all caps to emphasize my distress. Get over it. :)
Last summer, in a fit of cleaning, I did all the laundry and started piling bags of stuff to throw away. I had Grace help me take out all the garbage. This amounted to several trips back and forth to the dumpster. On the final trip out, I happened to glance down and saw something white on the sidewalk, in front of my neighbors apartment. My mormon neighbors. (Remember that, it will be important.)
Hmm, that something white looked familiar. Yep. You know it. And, no less, someone was probably just finishing their "ladies monthly", as the used panty-liner so kindly pointed out. I picked up this white "something" and giggled a little, "Ooh, she's going to be so embarrassed that her g's are outside for anyone to see." (Oh yeah -can you just see the finger on the "smite" button? Because I can.)
Without further ado, I took them up to the door and, with much embarrassed laughter on both sides, gave them back. Imagine with me then, the feelings of HORROR when she came over a few minutes later to say that THEY WEREN'T HERS and could they possibly be mine????? There are no words.
Except maybe this one: SMITE.
The shame! I knew right then that we could never be friends again. Justin and I would have to move. I was going to have to change my name. Who does that?? Who doesn't check first to make sure the the underwear in question are not their own? Me. That's who. And that's all I have to say about that.
Moving right along.
BYU freshman year. Physical Science 100. Large amphitheater in the MARB (is it still called that? Large classroom building, then). Several hundred students, lights out, professor droning on about sound waves or something. I'm struggling to stay awake, as the squiggles on my paper show. Obviously I am trying to take notes, however, the language of the notes is indecipherable as I keep falling asleep mid-word.
Lights come back on just as I feel something wet on my hand -the one on the desk, not the one propping up my head. Looking down, there is a puddle of DROOL by my hand. I'm not even kidding. I feel asleep in class and DROOLED. And, given that my head was way above the desk, there's no way that no one noticed. I'm shuddering right now, just thinking about it. So, if you were there and saw the poor girl drooling all over the desk, thanks for not laughing out loud. She felt dumb enough as it was.
I'm ready for my smiting now.
And finally, for your reading pleasure:
My favorite dress in high school was a knee-length (of course) black dress with white polka-dots. One that I stole (or borrowed, I totally could have borrowed it) from Lorna. Super cute. I wore it to dances and to church. Although, technically, it probably wasn't a "day time" dress, I didn't know about such things as evening versus day-wear, so whatever.
Standing outside the front foyer, one fine windy Sunday afternoon, I felt a mighty breeze on my hinder. AND IGNORED IT. A minute or so later, my friend -let's call her JW- came running outside to tell me her DAD asked her to tell me about my "slip showing." Unfortunately for me, I was wearing a short slip with a wide "V", so as to make anything (panties, nylons) under it clearly visible. Very Smooth.
I would love to say I have awesome legs and was a little pleased to be showing them off. But that would be a blatant lie and so I shall only say -how embarrassing for me. And that it's amazing to actually be able to feel a blush forming. I'm sure I reached all new levels of red that day.
Smite.