Can I Just Tell You?

Welcome to Can I Just Tell You?
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Can I just tell you? This whole site needs an overhaul. My goodness! Thank you for visiting, come back again in a few weeks. I still appreciate your support. :)
 
I love your support. So many of you have encouraged me to keep writing all these years. I took a few years off because I wasn't feeling very confident about my skill and self-conscience about my subject matter. I really appreciate your gentle (sometimes haunting) push to get back on the proverbial horse. My favorite thing in the world is making someone laugh, typically at my own expense. It warms my heart to hear that my silly stories have helped you smile or laugh out loud when you felt like that's the last thing you could do.

 

I also really appreciate the support of many boyfriends who read through my entire collection of crazy and still chose to continue dating. I'm not sure if you felt bad for me or found me charming. Regardless, thanks for the encouragement.

 

I'm going to change things up a little bit. As you may have guessed, from some of my posts, I have aspirations of writing a book. (Or two, three, or four… We'll see.) Anyway, all of my stories, up to this point 8/3/15, are true and happened to me. I'm thinking about adding some characters to my stories and playing around with fiction writing. You'll be able to tell the real stories from fiction. I think. ;-)

 

I'm not sure what my books are going to be like, yet. I've always enjoyed reading fiction but, maybe non-fiction is the right path for me. I'm pretty confident with the voice I've developed in telling my silly stories and would like to continue to write in that tone. I know I'm going to start off slow because, as you know, self-discipline has never been one of my stronger qualities. I may try to play around with other subjects, too. Stay tuned.

 

This site is meant to make you laugh through stories that you may be able to relate to whether it's sour love, a cooking disaster, a social faux-pas, etc. So, bear with me as I stumble through my experiences, hopefully, more gracefully than the actual event, but just as funny, and either share the lesson or just make you laugh out loud.

If there's ever a story that really hits your funny bone or makes your day, let me know. I'd love to hear from you.

So, sit back, put on your reading glasses and enjoy.

Please, take a minute to sign my guest book. It seems I have readers from around the world. I'd be more than happy to put you on an update list so you'll know when I have a new post. Cheers!

  

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Sunday, September 20, 2015

Dance Lessons

I was in Disney for a college friend's wedding. I went with two other women who left their husbands at home so we could have a girls' weekend. We all worked together scooping ice cream. Every day was a comedy show. I'm serious. If you've ever wondered, "Who would ever choose Rum Raisin ice cream?" I saw them, daily. They look exactly like you think they do. Also, you haven't seen anything if you haven't witnessed a frappe machine come to life and spew chocolate ice cream and milk over a 5' parameter. It happened to my boss who wore all white every day. His scream was glass shattering. I wasn't sure if I could continue working because I couldn't take an order without breaking down laughing every time I pictured it. I still have a scooper arm that's stronger than the other one, years later. It probably wasn't the ideal job for me given my ravenous appetite combined with zero self-control. Putting ice cream in front of me was like waving a steak to lions. May be the reason I held onto my "baby fat" 10 years into adulthood. I digress.

 

Anyway, we flew out together. I had the perfect dress for the occasion; I spent a fortune on a vintage dress from a boutique in the North End. (Me and my dresses!) It was a 1950's classic cut with gorgeous lace overlaying a rich red satin. It fit me like a glove. I always say if I could go back to anytime, it would be the 50s. I love the outfits.

 

The wedding was beautiful, Disney really knows what it's doing. Everything was perfect, including the open bar. Maybe, especially the open bar. The wedding was 10 years after we graduated college. In college, it was perfectly normal to consume alcohol like water. Ten years later, not so much. My wine glass hit empty more times than I care to admit.

 

Let me rewind a second to tell you about the bridal shower. You must know that everyone tries to set me up with their son, nephew, best friend, neighbor, business client, etc. The bridal shower was no different. My friend's favorite aunt thought I'd be a great match for her son. I heard all about him. He sounded nice but, he lived in Arizona. Not an ideal location for me. I didn't give him much thought. She said he was an Eagle Scout. That didn't persuade me…

 

Back to the bar. All the ladies hit the dance floor like it was 1976 (my new birth year.) I was a dancing queen channeling ABBA. Then, it happened. The videographer was documenting the alcohol induced and estrogen heavy dance floor. I kicked up my heels in a passionate samba and immediately landed on my face. The videographer zoomed in but my gal pals formed a ring of protective fire around me to try and save me from a lifetime of embarrassment on blooper reels. My heel had caught the beautiful lace of my very expensive dress. I'm not sure I would have been able to maintain my balance had I been sober so, I didn't feel as bad. I popped up and kept dancing like a champ.

 

The debauchery continued to a club next door. There was a 5' raised stage with barriers to let guests know the area was a no no. I remember seeing that and thinking, "Nah. I belong on that stage." So, there I was, seconds later, shaking my groove thing on stage until I was ushered off by security. Someone noticed my skillset and asked if I'd like to step outside for dance lessons. Can I just tell you? It was the Eagle Scout. I let my friends know. Their response in unison, "Dance lessons?!?!" I gave them a quick wave and headed out. Some of my favorite things to do is practice dancing and golf.

 

Apparently, he changed his mind and thought it would be better to practice making out. On a bench in front of the door. I was down with that, too. It's one of the other things I like to practice. We were there awhile. I think I was sitting on his lap when his mom walked by. I'm pretty sure I saw her husband take her arm and say, "Keep walking." Everyone left so, we hopped in a cab and headed back to my hotel.

 

If you've never been to Disney and you have a poor sense of direction, don't stay at the resort hotels. They're one giant maze. He invited me back to his room. Fortunately, I still had the good sense to decline. I think the bride's aunt would have killed me. So, like a gentleman, he dropped me off out front and asked if I knew where I was going. I said, "Yup." Then, the cab drove away. I turned around holding my heels and let my purse guide me to my room. As I zig zagged along the path, the sprinklers came on. It was refreshing. How I made it back to the right room is beyond me. I can only imagine it was by the grace of God. And, my purse. I couldn't find my way there sober.

 

I took my dress off quietly, hung it in the bathroom, and proceeded to pass out. The next morning, I got up to use the restroom and saw my dress hanging there behind the door. Immediately, I thought, "I must have been dreaming. I'm an excellent dancer. I couldn't have POSSIBLY done what I think I did." Slowly, I lifted the dress to check the back. My heart sunk. There it was, a tear about a foot long down the center of the back of my dress. I dropped my head into my hands.

 

When I walked out of the bathroom, my friends were smiling and asked about my dance lessons. We all burst out laughing and crying until we could hardly breathe. What a night! I was in rough shape though. We all were. The thought of getting on a plane in eight hours wasn't helping. I had heard an old wives tale that a lemon wedge under the armpit was supposed to alleviate a hangover. I was on a mission to find one. (No, it doesn't work. It may work if you have a mild hangover but, mine was heavy duty.)

 

Everything worked out. I didn't throw up on the plane and I never saw the aunt or my Eagle Scout again. One of my favorite aunts is a seamstress so, the dress is still wearable, thankfully. I can find the tear but no one else could. The couple is still married with an adorable daughter and my friends and I reminisce about our epic adventure. I am still looking for a dance partner, though.

Sun, September 20, 2015 | link          Comments


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