Hello you.
Hope everything is great in your life right now. And if it isn't, I'm going to tell you a funny story to make it that little bit rosier. Yeah, I'm just that kind of person.
A few months ago I met up with a writer in Leeds who had kindly agreed to give me some feedback on a script I had written. We met up for coffee, I was all nervous; what would she say about my script? Did she hate it? Was she embarrassed I had written such a monstrosity and couldn't comprehend why I thought anyone might want to sit listening to my drivel for two hours?
Thankfully if she did think any of these thoughts she made a very good effort at hiding it. I got some extremely useful feedback and felt inspired to edit and improve my script afterwards. The writer wished me luck in the future (I expect I shall need it) and off I went. I wandered around the shops in Leeds aimlessly for a bit and then decided I was thirsty. I came across a Waitrose, bit upmarket for me, but hey, I thought, just this once I'll get some organic, overpriced water as a little treat. Problem was, when I got in there, who should I see? The writer I had just said goodbye to. Now I don't know if I'm the only one who feels that its REALLY awkward when you bump into someone after having said a long, drawn out, standard British goodbye. Well, I felt very awkward. So, did I man up, smile at her in a friendly manner, make some witty banter about Waitrose food stock and thank her warmly again for all her help?
No, I hid in the preserves section.
Trouble was, she was stood right near the exit, so I couldn't make a slinky get away, and besides, I still had the bottle of water and some would call that shop lifting. So, as she moved round the shop, I had to move accordingly, pretending to look at jars of organically grown pesto and attempting to look nonchalant. Oh dear, how foolish I felt. She even ended up close behind me in the queue. I don't know if she saw me. Perhaps she was pretending not to have seen me either.
I haven't spoken to her since, so I guess it will be one of those unanswered mysteries as to whether we were both saving face or if it was all in my head. Probably the latter. Ah, the joys of being an awkward British person. Got to love it.
Thursday 26 January 2012
Thursday 12 January 2012
Making a boob of things - Part Two
Harro,
Hope everyone is well and not finding January too much of a slog. Today I shall tell thee a second embarrassing tale that arose out of misplaced garments. Those of you who are true squid snippet loyalists will remember I have already shared an amusing (I hope) boob story with you, and whilst this story contains a similar theme, I felt it was just too good a story not to share. Here goes.
So a few years ago I went on holiday with my family and a friend of mine in Tenerife. It was beautiful weather, and we had an amazing time. However one event was less welcome in my holiday memory file. We had gone to a water park as it was a fantastically sunny day, and whilst my parents sunbathed my friend and I tried out all the slides, ate food and were generally having a hoot. There was one particular slide we both loved; it was one of those curvy drop ones that look like camel humps and it ended with a big whoosh of water. We decided we wanted to take a picture of us in full swing (or should I say, full slide) so I got my mum to stand at the end of the slide and take pictures. The two of us went down the slide, squealing with child-like delight. I was hit with the forceful but not unpleasant whoosh of water, and I stood up, beaming. I walked past the queue of people and up to my mum to see the picture, and as I got close my mum quickly yanked my bikini top. Oh-oh. I became aware that my bikini must have been wonky and revealed a bit too much. Horror dawned on me as I realised I had walked past a queue of at least 20 people plus a life guard before mum had had chance to notice what had happened. How very embarrassing.
Naturally I refused to go back on that slide, and generally avoided that section of the water park in the hope that the people who saw my boob pop out would all stay congregated in the same place, far, far away from me. Unfortunately the shame didn't end with leaving the car park. When my friend got her pictures developed a few weeks later (remember the days of developing pictures??) they put them onto a CD disc for her, and as she handed the photos to me, she added discreetly;
"You might want to get rid of one of these."
Oh dear. Worriedly I got the pictures onto my computer and started sifting through them. Beach. Sunset. And sure enough there it was, me with my boob fully out, proud and greeting the world. Photographic evidence of my humiliation.
If you have had a similar swimsuit malfunction, you have my sympathies. Especially if there is also photographic evidences of your peaches/plums/mangoes. Let's just hope I don't do anything to annoy my friend, as let's face it, she has a heck of a blackmail tool at her disposal.
Hope everyone is well and not finding January too much of a slog. Today I shall tell thee a second embarrassing tale that arose out of misplaced garments. Those of you who are true squid snippet loyalists will remember I have already shared an amusing (I hope) boob story with you, and whilst this story contains a similar theme, I felt it was just too good a story not to share. Here goes.
So a few years ago I went on holiday with my family and a friend of mine in Tenerife. It was beautiful weather, and we had an amazing time. However one event was less welcome in my holiday memory file. We had gone to a water park as it was a fantastically sunny day, and whilst my parents sunbathed my friend and I tried out all the slides, ate food and were generally having a hoot. There was one particular slide we both loved; it was one of those curvy drop ones that look like camel humps and it ended with a big whoosh of water. We decided we wanted to take a picture of us in full swing (or should I say, full slide) so I got my mum to stand at the end of the slide and take pictures. The two of us went down the slide, squealing with child-like delight. I was hit with the forceful but not unpleasant whoosh of water, and I stood up, beaming. I walked past the queue of people and up to my mum to see the picture, and as I got close my mum quickly yanked my bikini top. Oh-oh. I became aware that my bikini must have been wonky and revealed a bit too much. Horror dawned on me as I realised I had walked past a queue of at least 20 people plus a life guard before mum had had chance to notice what had happened. How very embarrassing.
Naturally I refused to go back on that slide, and generally avoided that section of the water park in the hope that the people who saw my boob pop out would all stay congregated in the same place, far, far away from me. Unfortunately the shame didn't end with leaving the car park. When my friend got her pictures developed a few weeks later (remember the days of developing pictures??) they put them onto a CD disc for her, and as she handed the photos to me, she added discreetly;
"You might want to get rid of one of these."
Oh dear. Worriedly I got the pictures onto my computer and started sifting through them. Beach. Sunset. And sure enough there it was, me with my boob fully out, proud and greeting the world. Photographic evidence of my humiliation.
If you have had a similar swimsuit malfunction, you have my sympathies. Especially if there is also photographic evidences of your peaches/plums/mangoes. Let's just hope I don't do anything to annoy my friend, as let's face it, she has a heck of a blackmail tool at her disposal.
Thursday 5 January 2012
The Unexpected Present
Hello peeps and poops.
Hope you all had a good new year. And what better way to start the new year than becoming a follower of my blog (SHAMELESS PLUG ALERT). While you are doing that here is a good story for you.
As some of you may know, my birthday is very near Christmas, only a week before in fact. And this has been a very unfortunate blip on behalf of my parents, as it means the excitement comes all at once. It also means that some mean individuals give you a present whilst saying airily "Oh, that's your Christmas present too by the way." I mean really. Just because their birthday is in June.
So anyway, this particular year it was my 16th birthday, and I came downstairs with that happy, special feeling one gets when it is their birthday. I got hugs from the family, I got a cup of tea, I got a big pile of presents. It was all going marvellously well. I began to open my presents, a nice scarf, a book, etc. However, whilst nearing the end of my pile of presents I got a bit of a shock. When I opened the present, it revealed a large leather thong. I held it up in surprise and confusion, at which point my mum quickly snatched it away.
"Oh! That's not for you. That's a Christmas present for your dad."
Oh dear.Not only had I been given the wrong present, I had been given completely the wrong present which had left me seeing my parents in a entirely new light. A light which I have to say wasn't preferable to the old, softer, less knowing light I had before the thong had come about.
Mum does like to joke around and get silly presents sometimes. I am sure it was just a joke present. It was a joke present. It was.
Just make sure you label your presents everyone. That should be everyone's new year's resolution.
Hope you all had a good new year. And what better way to start the new year than becoming a follower of my blog (SHAMELESS PLUG ALERT). While you are doing that here is a good story for you.
As some of you may know, my birthday is very near Christmas, only a week before in fact. And this has been a very unfortunate blip on behalf of my parents, as it means the excitement comes all at once. It also means that some mean individuals give you a present whilst saying airily "Oh, that's your Christmas present too by the way." I mean really. Just because their birthday is in June.
So anyway, this particular year it was my 16th birthday, and I came downstairs with that happy, special feeling one gets when it is their birthday. I got hugs from the family, I got a cup of tea, I got a big pile of presents. It was all going marvellously well. I began to open my presents, a nice scarf, a book, etc. However, whilst nearing the end of my pile of presents I got a bit of a shock. When I opened the present, it revealed a large leather thong. I held it up in surprise and confusion, at which point my mum quickly snatched it away.
"Oh! That's not for you. That's a Christmas present for your dad."
Oh dear.Not only had I been given the wrong present, I had been given completely the wrong present which had left me seeing my parents in a entirely new light. A light which I have to say wasn't preferable to the old, softer, less knowing light I had before the thong had come about.
Mum does like to joke around and get silly presents sometimes. I am sure it was just a joke present. It was a joke present. It was.
Just make sure you label your presents everyone. That should be everyone's new year's resolution.
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