There is a good reason for the phrase, "Don't kiss and tell."

Whirlwind romance. The word "whirlwind" is actually quite romantic sounding in itself. When you hear it you think passion, love at first sight, destiny. That time is no obstacle for love.

My whirlwind romance went something like this: a friendship that led to a few pseudo-dates, a date, and then a committed relationship all in about a months time. To me I thought of it as all of the words listed above and more. He confessed his deep poetic feelings to me like, "When I am married someday I want a wife that, when she walks into the room, my breath is taken away and I am overwhelmed, wondering how I ever got so blessed with someone I am so unworthy of. I feel like I have that with you. I think we are going to last." Did I feel pure ecstasy as those beautiful words rolled gently off his tongue? You better believe it. He swept me off my feet before I even knew he was coming, and then continued to run off with me at a breakneck speed like the devil himself was chasing us down. Then after exactly two weeks, he broke up with me. Now the word whirlwind simply means stupidity in my book, and I have a bad case of whiplash.

A few days after Jeremy asked me to be his girlfriend we had our first kiss, a.k.a. makeout session. And it was perfect. The whole night I couldn't sleep because I was completely caught up in the "whirlwind" that I had constantly been a part of since the second I met him. Every day I was falling harder and harder for him and after that night, I was completely enraptured by him and his charm. Sadly, the next day he left to go visit his family a few states away, so my obsession had to be fed by mere text and phone conversations. When he finally got back in town I was so excited to see him! And kiss him of course. He was coming over to watch a movie with me so before hand I groomed myself to perfection, or at least as close as I could get to it. I mouth washed four times after brushing my teeth, flossed, perfumed, and the list goes on. We watched our movie and had a good time. No kiss yet. He got ready to go and still no kiss. So I decided I was going to take things into my own hands. I am not an experienced kisser whatsoever, so initiating was not something I was comfortable with. But he aggravated me into making a move. I walked him out to his car while we held hands and talked. It was such a beautiful night; starry and cool and it was drizzling a little bit but just enough to feel refreshing and make noise so there wasn't awkward silence. He hugged me and when he let go I could tell he still wasn't going to kiss me!

Needless to say I was seriously annoyed at that point. I decided I was just going to give him a peck on the lips and that was it. Just the cutesy kind of kiss, not breathy and passionate. I went for it, and as I was pulling away he started doing things with his mouth and tongue. That should be good news right? Well because I was unprepared for his response, I pulled back. I totally could have recovered from that and smiled and just gone back at it, but there was one small problem. It was the sound that accompanied the kiss that I initiated, and it came from my body. You've heard people talk about out of body experiences? This was definitely one of those. The noise I emitted (it was not voluntary), was an eardrum-breaking "muah!" sound that I had never made before in my life. It's like what grandma's do when they're creepy and gross and its in a movie. Only I had just done that to my new, hot boyfriend. His face was incredulous and I could feel the heat instantly rush to my cheeks. In retrospect the best thing for both of us probably would have been if we had laughed it off and said goodbye and pretended like it never happened so that hopefully the next day, his feelings of repulsion would have subsided. But the expression of horror on my face was firmly planted there and before I knew what had happened I ran away from him into the safety of my home. Literally, I just broke away from him and booked it into my house without a word but "Bye!". That is not normal behavior, and most of you are probably thinking to yourselves, "No wonder he broke up with her after two seconds". You're supposed to be on my side. Anyways, that evening blew up in my face and even though he was kind about it that night when I called him to apologize, he never kissed me again while we were together.

Jeremy was technically my first boyfriend. Even though this is an anonymous blog that I do not advertise, I know there are people out there that read this. Yes, you. And despite the fact you will never meet me (at least not knowingly), at times it is difficult to be so transparent about the things that I do every day that are so embarrassing. Just like when I tried being vulnerable with Jeremy, it was hard! Being open in that way is not something that any of us come by naturally in my opinion. But the things that make us vulnerable are a huge part of who we are! Jeremy never really saw this side of me when we were dating: the awkward fumbling side of me and the sense of humor that I acquired to be able to deal with it. But looking back on our whirlwind romance I realize that there is a lot of light to be shed on that short moment we shared. Awkward, embarrassing acts such as these are a big part of what makes me, me. And the fact that he couldn't handle that and I wasn't comfortable enough with him to be that version of myself, the real version, must mean that it wasn't destiny after all.

I'm glad I was able to share my story with you. Goodnight to all. Muah!

Smurfs and Feelin' Blue.

Wow, it has been an eternity since an awkward moment has been posted! I have had a serious case of writers block these past months and not because they have been uneventful. Let me tell you, I am about to completely unload my best ones that have been happening while I was away. My awkward curse has an overactive imagination and has really been on a role as of late. I'll start off with my most recent event in this post.

I just began a new venture called, 'being a nanny'. The family seems wonderful thus far and it really has been an easy transition for the most part.  Because I am new I want to make a good impression. I wear clothes that are obviously not the most ideal for chasing kids around but I still haven't found the balance between being a professional, and dressing for a job which a lot of the time comes with some wear and tear. I also have struggled with not cussing by accident, etc. I'm sure there will be a time when that slips and then I will have a really juicy story to tell you.

 Anyways, I want to impress, you get the idea. I decided it was time to wax the old mustache (quit judging me), so I pulled out my handy waxing kit and went to work. I've only done it one other time, so I had no idea that the seemingly innocent looking tub of wax was actually past the point of boiling and had turned to straight lava. Result: a majorly burned mustache.

My medical knowledge is limited, but I figured aloe was probably the best way to treat it. I lathered it on all through out the day and it seemed like it was helping. I made sure to reapply before bed and then hit the hay hoping for better things to come in the morning.

Bloody hell. As I gazed at the face that I only recently came to terms with, my stomach turned. I stared disbelievingly at the site of what my mustache had since morphed into. My face was marred by...a...a...

Blue mustache. Blue?! Blue. Bblluueee. Not like baby blue, but a bright, smurf-y kind of blue. The aloe I used to "treat" it had stained it that not so neutral hue. The burn had really come into its own at that point; it was huge and cracked and very very visible. Did I mention it was blue? Sadly, when you're an adult life must go on even when you're facing certain humiliation, i.e. death. Well maybe not death, but it definitely felt like it! I went about my day, first getting stared at by every member of the family I work for. Luckily they are very polite and didn't bother me with stupid questions about it. I went to the gym and tried to avoid eye contact with everyone there. Soon after I just up and left because I couldn't handle the stares. I mean there really is no normal reason for anyone to ever have a blue mustache. I made matters worse and accentuated it by wearing a bright blue shirt to match. Looking back I think that may have been a mistake.