Laughing at myself...
Bonnie recently blogged about her embarrassing moments and being the friend that I am I felt that I should blog a couple of my most embarrassing moments just to show her that having a little black schmutz on ya is nothing...plus I love laughing at myself so you all should get to laugh with me.
The funniest embarrassing moment involves alcohol and dancing. I blogged this once over on Frog E. Luv but am too lazy to go searching.
My friends L and J and I went out for a bachelorette party in Charleston SC, we met up early for a little pre-game drink just in case things were boring. At the restaurant we did typical bachelorette party things like make fake name tags with stripper names, write sweet words in a keepsake card, and laugh at the bride to be as we made her wear a crazy tiara. Our party soon moved to various clubs and bars that were all within walking distance (Charleston was awesome for going out, you could switch venues without having to get a cab!) and we landed at City Bar.
City Bar was kind of the "it" scene at the time, full of college kids and everyone else who wanted to get their dance on (and was your typical meat market guy/gal wise). I am a dancer, I like to shake my booty. If there is music I will dance. Period. So, in true form I grabbed my friend L and we hit the dance floor...it was packed. We found a little hole and started dancing, having a great time. Then the DJ put on a weird song that cleared the floor enough for us to move in a little more and get out of the "danger zone". The danger zone is the area on the outskirts of the dance floor where weird guys watch you dance and try to dance with you. If you are in the middle you are less likely to get approached by random creeps. Anyway, as we moved in further I hit water and slipped with my traction less heels. Luckily I was able to regain a little balance by flailing around like a crazy woman, doing a little "running man" move.
So I thought. Nope, I didn't save it at all. Instead I hit the ground with my face because I didn't even put my hands down because I was so convinced I had it saved. I hit hard enough that I just kind of laid there for a second before getting up, dancing a little and then running to the bathroom to wipe dance floor funk off my face. I ended up with a bruised eye and dislocated collar bone.
Once in the bathroom all I wanted to do was leave so that nobody would see me. It takes a lot to embarrass me and I wanted to climb under a rock. But since I couldn't drive and neither could my friends and our DD wouldn't be out to get us for 3 more hours I had to suck it up. So I removed my name tag so that nobody would recognize me. Because the little name tag on my chest was the only thing people would recognize about me right?
The night ended up being a blast, the story is classic, and you haven't lived until you've had to explain a dancing injury to the doctor when asking for x-rays because you can't lift your arm over your head.
The funniest embarrassing moment involves alcohol and dancing. I blogged this once over on Frog E. Luv but am too lazy to go searching.
My friends L and J and I went out for a bachelorette party in Charleston SC, we met up early for a little pre-game drink just in case things were boring. At the restaurant we did typical bachelorette party things like make fake name tags with stripper names, write sweet words in a keepsake card, and laugh at the bride to be as we made her wear a crazy tiara. Our party soon moved to various clubs and bars that were all within walking distance (Charleston was awesome for going out, you could switch venues without having to get a cab!) and we landed at City Bar.
City Bar was kind of the "it" scene at the time, full of college kids and everyone else who wanted to get their dance on (and was your typical meat market guy/gal wise). I am a dancer, I like to shake my booty. If there is music I will dance. Period. So, in true form I grabbed my friend L and we hit the dance floor...it was packed. We found a little hole and started dancing, having a great time. Then the DJ put on a weird song that cleared the floor enough for us to move in a little more and get out of the "danger zone". The danger zone is the area on the outskirts of the dance floor where weird guys watch you dance and try to dance with you. If you are in the middle you are less likely to get approached by random creeps. Anyway, as we moved in further I hit water and slipped with my traction less heels. Luckily I was able to regain a little balance by flailing around like a crazy woman, doing a little "running man" move.
So I thought. Nope, I didn't save it at all. Instead I hit the ground with my face because I didn't even put my hands down because I was so convinced I had it saved. I hit hard enough that I just kind of laid there for a second before getting up, dancing a little and then running to the bathroom to wipe dance floor funk off my face. I ended up with a bruised eye and dislocated collar bone.
Once in the bathroom all I wanted to do was leave so that nobody would see me. It takes a lot to embarrass me and I wanted to climb under a rock. But since I couldn't drive and neither could my friends and our DD wouldn't be out to get us for 3 more hours I had to suck it up. So I removed my name tag so that nobody would recognize me. Because the little name tag on my chest was the only thing people would recognize about me right?
The night ended up being a blast, the story is classic, and you haven't lived until you've had to explain a dancing injury to the doctor when asking for x-rays because you can't lift your arm over your head.
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