When I was 16, I was caught passing notes to a boy I was swooning over in our advanced physics class. There wasn’t a lot of kids in the class (advanced physics people. Let’s just say I was the captain of the geek squad,) and I wasn’t particularly interested with the subject matter of the day.
I was more enthralled with the tall dark-haired boy who had limpid pools of green sea water for eyes. That boy rocked my 16-year-old world. At least in my imagination. In reality, he was struggling with his own sexuality and couldn’t quite decide which side of the fence he wanted to play on.
Turned out, it wasn’t my side.
But as an innocent 16-year-old who had only a handful of tongues down her throat in her day, he was all I could think of. I was obsessed with turning our blooming friendship into the romance of the century. After all, he had a car, lived near-by and didn’t have a bossy big brother to chaperone our dates and make kissy sounds when ever we held hands.
In other words, he wasn’t Boo. No. This boy was everything my recently-broken-up-with Boo wasn’t. And I was determined to make this boy mine. So I did what I could to snare him in my web since I didn’t have any boobs to push under his nose. I wrote him a soul-shattering note, detailing my love for him and how I thought he walked on water.
Only to have my physic’s teacher intercept it and force me to stand in front of the class and read it aloud. To him.
That boy? Never spoke to me again. And my cheeks flamed so hard my sweater burst into flames and I ran screaming down the school corridors, burning with embarrassment and smoke trailing from my arse.
Good times. For the rest of my time at that school I was called Shakespeare.
I seem to have a knack for finding myself in embarrassing situations like that. Like the time I was smack talking certain family members only to find out they were standing behind me as my husband desperately tried to shut me up with his pleading eyes and I prattled on and on about how evil said family members were.
They just sharpened their knives and then rightly nailed me to the wall as I blushed a thousand shades of red.
Or my all time favorite stupid move was when I was on the radio, guest dee-jaying for a sick host and I chattered about how sexy I thought the female station manager was during a commercial break. I all but composed an ode to her boobs and described in great detail how I wished I looked like she did, only to find out I pressed the wrong button and was on the air.
With the entire city, including my very Christian in-laws, my grandparents, and my HUSBAND listening to my little ‘whoopsie daisie!’
Funny. The station manager never asked me back. Yet that afternoon, they had the highest ratings they had gotten in two straight months. Heh.
My point is, I’ve gotten quite comfortable in letting it all hang out for the world to ogle. (Just ask the girls in the lobby washroom in the San Francisco Westin. They got to see more of me than meets the eye. And they didn’t even have to ask.)
Still, there are some moments in time, I absolutely cringe with regret and remorse and a sense of “holy hell, how can I be that freaking stupid?”
Like when you walk into a shiny, almost invisible glass door at store because you are too busy ogling the two hot men on motorcycles and they are totally watching you and you can’t believe men that hot would find you attractive and so you push out your chest and smile and act all flirty just to smash nose first into the glass door you had presumed (rather faultily) was open and blood pores down your face, your ego explodes and the two hot bikers almost fall off their bikes with laughter and then drive away marveling at your extreme dorkiness.
Not that I’m speaking from experience or anything. Ahem.
Last night, while on the twitter boards, I had one such moment. I was direct messaging a friend and we were discussing the loves of our lives. Our little boys. Our angel boys.
In a moment of stupidity, I sent her a direct message that wasn’t so direct and more along the lines of posted on the public twitter timeline, that while I loved my husband dearly there would always be someone else I loved equally, if not more and how I missed that person dearly.
I thought nothing of it.
Until one minute later and my email was lit up like a switch board and twitter started going nuts.
“Um, excuse me? What?” one twitter peep asked.
“Care to share, darling?” another inquired.
“I can’t believe you are cheating on Boo you two faced slut. May you rot in the fiery pits of hell you damned adultress,” was another.
Scratching my head, I couldn’t figure out what was going on. So I hopped over to the twitter board and took a look around. That’s when I saw my twitter. My very public twitter that, taken out of context, could look very bad for a happily married woman.
My cheeks lit up like a match tossed on gasoline soaked kindling and suddenly my internet came to a flaming stand still as I tried to erase the message. Murphy’s freaking law that when you need to erase something on the twitter boards you get the damn fail whale while everyone else reads your dumbass remark and starts composing storylines and soap operas around it.
Needless to say, the message got erased and I spent the better part of the hour explaining to people that I am happily married and have no desire, no prospects even, to leave my husband. (And that facker better think twice about leaving me or I’ll hunt him down to the ends of Earth and force feed him his nuts. Heh.)
Still, there are no words to explain just how relieved I was my husband was at work and doesn’t know what twitteritus is all about.
At least he didn’t until he phoned a few minutes into the drama and innocently inquired what I was up to as trying to untweet my twit.
“Um, I just told the world I’m in love with someone more than you.”
Pause.
“Well, is he at least better looking than me? Cuz that would totally burn if you decided to trade me in for an uglier, used model. I do have some pride you know.”
“Sorry, sweetie, but this dude is younger and cuter. I was talking about our son.”
“Ah. Well, don’t worry about it. I totally love him more than you. I can’t blame you. That kid rocked. Looked just like his daddy. Who happens to be sexy man candy,” Boo teased.
Ha ha. Man candy. Keep thinking that dude. I’m still not sucking on your lollipop when you get home, I teased him right back.
“You know Tanis, maybe if you focused more on sucking my sugar stick of love, you’d have less time to publicly embarrass yourself. And your thighs wouldn’t be sporting second degree burns from an overheated laptop,” he explained.
I thought about it for a second. Or less.
He had a point. But I think I’ll just buy myself a muzzle and avoid direct messaging on twitter from now on.
No lock-jaw and less drool this way.
And maybe I’ll stick to instant messaging from now on. It’s far less painful to embarrass myself one person at a time rather than a cyber room of twitterati.
Oy.
58 Comments
Ain’t it life for someone to :LOL: love and adore you :LOL: so much they feel they know Boo on a first name basis, then use his name to call you out as a slut! Ugh.
Love Boo’s reaction.
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I relate this TOTALLY could happen to me!! Great post!!
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We must be blood relatives. I so suffer from foot-in-mouth disease! And Twitter is flat-out dangerous. Last night I offered Undomestic Diva some class one pain meds on Twitter. Meant to send a direct twitter, but sent an @. Yeah, I could be arrested any minute for that. They are the most hardcore of the hardcore drugs. High street value. So then I tried twittering a “hahaha just joking” message to maybe make the cops not arrest me for distributing class one drugs to people they aren’t subscribed to. If I go to jail soon I’ll twitter you and let you know!
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I’m not laughing with you, I am pointing and jabbing and laughing RIGHT AT YOU.
Until I do the same stupid thing.
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Likely story, girl. I only kid, I only kid.
Like you, I’m always putting it out there, normally mortifying my husband. He calls it when I “Keep it Real.”
Oh, 24 Hearts, if you “hypoethetically” handing out hardcore drugs, I’m “hypothetically” saying twitter that shit our way. LOL. Ikid, I kid.
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Down with sadistic teachers. My cheeks still flame red when I remember some times from (hell on earth) school. Never fret, with each “Tanis moment” we adore ya a little more.
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You always seem to make me laugh and cry at the same time.
I always open my mouth up and insert my big foot. One time in church I said holy shit. Not good….
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Please tell me you’re joking about someone calling you a whore over some stupid twitter msg.
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Oh my dear god, of all the tweets to miss! However, I put some ridiculously snarky comment on twitter (surprise!) and then left for the night, forgetting that it would update on my site’s widget and that lovely, out of context shitbomb of a tweet was going to explode all over the place. Good times. That’s why I always end my night with “I love bunnies!”
I adore your hubs for his response, he could BE my husband with those few words. He’s a keeper.
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HOLY CRAP! That was YOU at The Westin!!
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Um…you got my IM name, girlie?! Heh.
I like the sexy talk you and Boo have. And you say you two can’t pull off the sexy, sexy long distance talk. Pffft. Clearly you can!
If I were smart, I’d get my ass off Twitter now. But I can’t. Because I can’t bear to be without you. Put your foot in your mouth with me anytime!
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LOL That’s funny! I’m forever embarrassing myself too!
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Don’t ya’ just hate it when you do stuff like that. I hate having to go back and explain to everyone why I put my foot in my mouth. LOL.
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uhhh…nice cover. You know it was Brad Pitt you were talking about. Hehe.
The second degree burns from an overheated laptop kill me. Yesterday, I shit you not, I put two re-usable ice pack on my legs underneath my overheating laptop.
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Yet another exerpt that could have been pulled from the story that is my life. :O) You really have a talent for telling a tale well.
And that “fail whale”? Its become Twitter’s blue screen of death! (And one of the reasons I don’t “twit” much anymore…)
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Holy crap, I turn my back on Twitter for one night and I miss all this good drama. This always happens to me. I’ll blame Michael Phelps even though he had nothing whatsoever to do with it. Just because.
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First time over to your blog. I love it. I am always putting the foot in my mouth…..!
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You crack me up… that Boo is a lucky dude, and you are a lucky chic to have found each other!
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Sometimes, when I read your posts, I wonder if we’re married to the same men and are siamese twins separated upon eviction from the uterus and you were left in Canada whilst I was sent to Iowa. I’m sure that’s what it is because no one can be as embarrassing as I but you are just as…so that must be it.
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oh Tanis.
You are not alone lovely one.
Damn woman. The radio thing sounds just like something I would have done. I am a firm admirer of the human form in all shapes and I will readily tell people about it.
Oh, and the twitter thing. Dude. I just choked on a black bean nacho. OUCH!
Have a fabulous evening darlin’.
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I feel for you. Did the same thing on a smaller scale… My man’s name and a co-workers name started with the same letter… remembering a particulary hot moment… I texted him… or so I thought LOL… Insert cell phone into mouth…Beet red me!!
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Something we can all relate to for sure. Like the time J- the really boring MIS guy in my office is fixing my computer and then i remember i’ve created a “J- the really boring MIS guy” folder that i’ve stored the help desk ticket in and he needs to see the ticket to help and… you get the idea.
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I feel a wee bit at fault here. If I hadn’t been all DM-ing you about deep shit in the first place instead of just IMing the situation wouldn’t have happened.
It’s like I told you last night: I loved my bug more than I could ever think of loving my husband and I miss him more now that he isn’t here. Probably more than if my husband died, but in a COMPLETELY different way. (I know YOU get this though some may be going, “WTF?”)
It’s my damn fault in the first place and I am way sorry that me starting the conversation blew up your life for a few hours.
That said…Um…SO GLAD IT WASN’T ME.
(I kid, I kid…)
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I’m sorry I called you a whore.
/runs away giggling
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Thank god i don’t twitter.
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Tanis~ I just discovered your blog a few weeks ago and I just wanted to let you know that you are wonderful and absolutly gorgous (aarg, where is the spell check?) You rock!! xxjules
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The New Girl has the best IM gone awry story. I won’t take it from her, since it’s rightfully hers (or her roommates) but if you want a good hearty chuckle, email her.
Maybe I should have DM’d that so now she’s not getting emails requesting the IM story.
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Again, you are funny as shit!
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This is exactly my biggest damn fear and it passes through my mind a split second almost every time I click the send button on emails or twitts… So sorry (and seriously, did someone call you a damn slut - chill people CHILL)
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Good to hear you are causing excitement in other’s lives!
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I can never get Twitter to delete any of my Tweets. I’ll hit that stupid trash can twenty times in a row and it just laughs at me.
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My husband calls me out on that all the time. He says, “I used to be so special to you, you doted on me, but since the first boy was born, I was tossed out like an old rag.”
I don’t mean for him to feel that way and I try so hard not to make him feel that way or let him feel that way but damn it, my kids are….my kids!
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All I can think of is blow jobs now. I probably missed the entire point of the damn post thinking about blow jobs. I don’t give good blow jobs. My teeth are too big. And sharp. I made J. bleed once. Don’t laugh at me Tanis goddamnit.
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So when I was all “Were you talking about me?” and you were all “yeah, dude, when are you moving to Canada?” and I was all “go find me a double-wide and I’m there” and you were all “oh…well, uh, I gottagothere’ssomethingonthestove” and I was all “Tanis?” and you were all “….” that was just you messing with me?
Don’t toy with my emotions, blondie.
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You had me @ “maybe if you focused more on sucking my sugar stick of love…”
ROFL.. totally something Daren would say!
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I’m having flashbacks to Physics class. V. unpleasant.
I’ll think about blow jobs instead.
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I’m grateful Twitter limits my tweets because I can’t get caught having Twitter Sex with you because I always run out of space before it cu
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I wondered about that. But then I figured you were just being weird.
Nice post, Shakespeare.
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So, you’re having an affair with a whale? Whatever floats your boat- or swims underneath it as the case may be.
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I thought Twitter was designed for us foot-in-mouth types. Nice to know there’s a way to un-twit a tweet. That could’ve come in handy AGES ago.
And in the 7th grade I passed a note in class, had it intercepted by Mr. Algebra Dickhead Teacher who made ME read it aloud. It said, “Mr. (Algebra Dickhead Teacher) is such a fucking asshole. I hate his class.”
I failed.
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Dammit woman, come clean and tell the truth. It was totally me you were thinking of.
I have that effect on people. It is a gift.
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Gosh I missed it. I am normally twittering it up (with not much back from others….oh well) But I was passed out on the couch after our fun at the fair.
thankfully I never had to read a note outloud that would have totally sucked.
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Gosh I missed it. I am normally twittering it up (with not much back from others….oh well) But I was passed out on the couch after our fun at the fair.
thankfully I never had to read a note outloud that would have totally sucked.
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and apparently I like to double comment now. I don’t think the one was really comment worthy and it wasn’t great enough to read twice…argh!
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As a gal in the bathroom at the Westin, I can confirm this. I’m very good as sticking my foot in my mouth and having the most embarrassing stories to share. And weird things happen to me. Like I couldn’t make this up.
I so badly want to blog about the registered sex offender that asked me out last week… but I won’t… because I’m not like you. But I so wish I could be just a little more “hang loose” like you are.
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oh Tanis hahaha! way to put your foot in your mouth huh? i bet you are dexterous enough to do that hahaha
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Only you, T.
Only you.
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Ugh, I have those stupid moments all the time. I always get caught. Never fails.
Your tell it like is is, honest posts have my heart. (:
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Untweeting your twit sounds like a VERY personal problem.
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My wife has been telling me for a week now about how good Phelps is…
Screw Phelps.
Medal wearing bastard. What else has he got? Double jointed elbows? So what?
You got me off in the wrong direction now…
If every woman would heed to your husbands advice, there’d be a lot less to nag about?
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I hate that your teacher did that to you. What is it with some of them enjoying abusing children? The rest of that shit is just plain funny!
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We all have those wonderful “open foot, insert mouth” moments, I’ve learned to roll with them. Or have fun with them. Don’t pay to much attention to the twits on Twitter (this one included), what can one learn about a person in 160 characters or less anyway?
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Hi!
Im from the Phil and I just saw your feature on CNN so just can’t wait to see what the fuss is all about… LOVE YOUR BLOG. I really think you’re funny and talented. Keep writing so we can get our daily dose of life!
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D’oh! That is totally something I would do, and exactly why I do not direct message on twitter. Love the letter from school story. Schools were so savage back then, weren’t they?!
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You can add “Just kidding” and a slap on the cheek to the end of anything and it makes it O.K.
If only you had known that back then.
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I tell ya. . . I am certainly glad I found your site. Cuz just when I need a good laugh, you’re there to serve.
How funny.
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Great story though I’ll bet the advanced physics thing was the most mortifying. Nothing stings as bad as teenage blunders.
I’ve tried the twitter thing. I just don’t “get” it. As far as I can tell I’m just talking to myself. But, I’ve never said anything that would perk eyebrows. Maybe I’ll give that a try and see if anyone really is out there. LOL.
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SO FUNNY! I’m always making an ass out of myself, so I’m glad to see I’m not the only one…
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