Whaddya know–it’s Embarrassing Story Monday again! Funny how they keep rolling around.
Actually, this is only the second Embarrassing Story Monday, so the funny part is really how I keep avoiding them. For the first installment click here, but only if you want to writhe in pain on your seat. The only reason I decided to continue this horrific serial on this particular day is to buy me time as I prepare the 3rd installment of the Erica/Dave wedding saga. It will go up tomorrow, unless I don’t feel well . . . or feel too well to sit in front of my computer . . . or make the unprecedented decision to do some laundry. . . or if my coffee tastes kinda funny. I love setting up excuses a day in advance for myself.
For today, the tale of an innocent young dancer falling prey to a wardrobe malfunction. Oh, it’s a classic alright. I like to call it “1st Grade: The Very Enthusiastic Curtsy”, or “The Day This Dancer Danced Her Last.”
Will you be horrified? Morally appalled? Empathetic? Will you shun my blog forever? Weigh in … and please share or link me to any related stories that come to mind from your own dark pasts. I could use a few laughs/winces/squirms myself as I dive into the week.
I must add that I was blissfully unaware of this event’s existence until a few years ago when I was going through old pictures and suddenly I noticed … well, exactly what you will see in a moment. I’ll add the pictures leading up to it so that you can cringe with me over the earnest expression on that little 6-year-old face.
I hope the internet police aren’t upset about this picture. After all, they are there to safeguard human decency, etc., but I see this more as a Tale of Caution than a gratuitous breech of decency. Plus, it was all taking place within a bubble of innocence, in a land of pinafores, paisley-print dresses with smocking, and turquoise stirrup pants. We were dancing to the likes of “She’ll Be Comin’ Round the Mountain When She Comes”…
There I am, 2nd from the left . . .
Biting my lip with pure sincerity . . .
Swing your partner, do-se-do . . .
And there you have it.
I was a girl with zeal, and dang it, if I curtsied I was going to curtsy 100%. I was all in, baby—I was dedicated to the craft. Whatever is happening in this picture—it was happening wholeheartedly.
Oh me oh my. Look at the dress/sneakers combo! The big blue glasses I was so proud of! The skinny legs, the knobby knees! And the Hanes Her Way. I am posting it here so that you can suffer with me on this happy, happy summer morning. Plus, if I post all embarrassing material on myself preemptively, nobody will ever be able to blackmail me! And my friends, freedom from blackmail is freedom indeed.
I will be making further progress in my blackmail-free policy via this blog during the months to come. Beware.