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I have always been one of those people who likes to overdo everything… it’s something I got from my mom. If we are going to have a party… We. Are. Going. To. Have. A. Party. Celebrations are a big deal in this household. Halloween is no exception! Yesterday, my three children and I braved Wal-mart in order to buy our week’s menu of Halloween-themed dinners ( a tradition we started last year). When we got home I “had to” make Laycee’s Halloween costume (notice I put “had to” in quotations. I know that you never HAVE to make a costume for an infant, who doesn’t care and doesn’t appreciate it… but like I said, I am over-doer.) Then I “had to” make Halloween dinner # 1: French toast (I used Halloween cookie cutters to shape the bread into Ghosts, pumpkins, haunted houses, bats, and coffins.) After the kids went to bed, I “had to” make my Trunk-or-Treat decorations. And then I “had to” play the piano for two hours.
What does playing the piano have to do with Halloween, you ask? Nothing. I’m simply trying to explain why I forgot my “Take you back, Tuesdays!” Blog. So Welcome to “Remember When, Wednesday!”
I don’t know about you, but the first thing I’d do when I received my yearbook was flip to the index and find what pages my picture could be found. Freshman year of High School was so exciting because it was my very first hard-bound, mark of getting older. The minute that book was in my hands I raced to those final pages but, much to my chagrin, one solitary number was beside my name. I felt so disappointed to know that my grand legacy of high school-hood was only documented by one less-than-memorable school photo. As sophomore year began, I was determined to get my picture in those coveted activity pages.
During this year, I got my first big role in a play. I was cast as "Motherella", the evil step-mother in a one-act entitled, Cinderella wore Combat Boots. A friend and I had too much fun designing Motherella’s hair and makeup. I ended up wearing an unflattering rainbow-colored Mumu with huge ratted hair, a unibrow, a giant mole, and a slight mustache.
When I received my yearbook for sophomore year, I was ecstatic to see TWO whole page numbers by my name. Hurriedly, I flipped to the activity page my name was listed. Not only was that unibrow, mole, and mustache documented for the ENTIRE school… the photographer also caught me at this angle where my double chin was very pronounced. Actually, it wasn’t even a double chin… it looked like my chin sort of just melted into my neck. I was mortified! My first thought was to call my best friend for comfort.
Our phone call:
ME: Heather… turn to page 245 (page number has been changed)
HEATHER: (flipping through her yearbook) What?
ME: Do you see that picture?
HEATHER: The one of that ugly dude?
ME: Heather! THAT’S ME!!!!!!!
HEATHER: (Pauses. Then, in the background through a muffled reciever I hear uncontrollable bellowing laughter)
The moral of the story: Be careful what you wish for!!! You may wish for an immortalizing sparkling portrait that others will envy and never forget… and end up as “that ugly dude”.
...That no one will ever forget.
The other day I was thinking that I should write down some of those stories from my past that I never wrote in my journal. Since I am much faster at typing, I decided to use my blog as a gateway to yesteryear. After all, my blog is called, “Pieces of Krystle”, so Tuesdays are now dedicated to writing pieces of my past.
So welcome to “Take you back, Tuesdays!” These anecdotes won’t be profound… as a matter-of-fact, I will be showing that it really takes a life time to master the dorkiness that I call, Krystle.
For instance:
It was the first day of Senior year of High school. I was determined that this would be the year I changed my stars. I was going to be a different person. This year… I was going to leave my mark. I was going to stand out.
On this day, I took extra care to curl my hair (which was significantly longer), and picked out a nice outfit. I got to school wearing a confident smile, making an effort to greet everyone as they passed. Joining the herd of students stampeding up the stairwell, my mind was focused on achieving my goal. So focused… I didn’t notice the pile of toothpaste someone had unloaded on the stairs as a practical joke. Without warning, I suddenly found myself lying on the ground, the loose papers I was carrying gently fluttered down around me. The stairwell froze and all eyes were on me. Then my ears started buzzing… I was being laughed at. There were two choices: Melt into the floor and disappear into miserable embarrassing nothingness, or get up in front of everyone and pretend to laugh at myself like I’d somehow planned the whole scene. Unfortunately, as I was standing up with a forced grin, I realized that my rear end was covered in blue goo. More chortles ensued, luckily I had a hoodie to tie around my waist.
That was that. My goal was achieved. Only five minutes into senior year and I already stood out. My minty fresh start was the end of changing my stars. I’d much rather be plain old Krystle, anyway.
So, at Walmart today, I was feeling pretty good. I caught two guys checking me out! (I did shower today, after all!) That never happens with two small children in tow… or ever… so I was pretty ecstatic. But then, a woman checked me out… and then another… and another, and by this time I realize that I am not THAT good looking, so I deduced that something must be wrong! I darted into the nearest empty aisle, pulled out my cell phone, and took a picture of myself. And sure enough, those two men who made my day, were staring at the huge mascara smear across my cheek.
Darn.
I wiped the smudge off, and continued on my way. As I was in the meat section, this woman came popping out of nowhere and was raving about how beautiful Laycee wass. She was loud, boisterous, and RUSSIAN! I’m not sure if she was drunk or just a really happy person, but she (without asking) ripped the blanket off of Laycee, and started kissing her feet… very loudly. "Muah! Muah!" Then she finally turned to speechless me, and LOUDLY said (in a thick accent), “I’m sorry! I just luff babies!” She smiled and began to walk away but then spotted Grayson peeking over the cart. Her eyes lit up! “You have a boy too! He’s beautiful!” She then playfully shouted, “Come here!” and started chasing Grayson, which of course, he loved. He climbed up on the meat railing and his foot got caught. She came over to him and was trying to yank him off, oblivious to the fact that he was stuck, and Grayson started yelling, “Ow!” She just looked at me and said, “Sumting is wrong.” I pointed out my poor son’s stuck foot, and she helped wiggle his shoe out of the bar.
She smiled and then began walking away. But then turned around and shouted “ONE MORE TIME!” and reached out to tickle Grayson. Before she could reach him, he darted out of the way playfully, which threw off her balance and this middle-aged Russian goes crashing to the floor! Before I can say anything, Grayson dives on top of her and she just starts rolling around on the WALMART MEAT SECTION FLOOR tickling him! Loudly!
A poor fellow shopper was trying to get through, but patiently waited while this bizarre woman was belly laughing… on the floor… without a care in the world. Finally, she got up, smiled at me like that wasn’t THE STRANGEST thing I had ever witnessed, and then casually waved goodbye to my son.
I am so grateful she didn’t hear him call out to her, “Can you come over and play at my house?”
What an eventful day we had at the circus… I mean, Walmart.
Barry was laughing his head off as I reenacted the whole story, complete with a poorly executed Russian accent. When I finished wiping the tears from my eyes, I noticed my husband pouting. He looked at me and sadly said, “Why does the cool stuff always happen to you when I’m not there?”
