Whoa Mama

Tuesday, November 27, 2007


The "Mamas" and the "Sistas" spent a blissful day at the spa. Miraculously we organized 10 women: my mom, my sister, my sister-in-law, her 2 sisters and mom, my sister in-law's sister and her sister and mom. We were only missing Bridget :-(

We lounged, sipped champage, lunched and were buffed, massaged and polished. More importantly, we had a fabulous day with the women we love!

Back into the hot tub for the second time, my mom and sister and I started sharing most embarrassing moments. good times! Bridget posted one recently about dismissing a chatty waiter. Mom and Gina both had funny, mildly embarrassing moments. I personally like the one when mom pinched the cheek of a family friend (who is not someone who strikes you as a target for such as action), in a mildly wine-warmed event. We chuckled about these for a while.

Enter the problem. Since spa day, I have been mentally cataloging my extensive list of foot-in-mouth, mildly offensive, or otherwise short-sighted comments. Not on purpose, but I'll be in the shower and spontaneously groan from a recalled moment of idiocy. I hate being embarrassed; I hate seeing people embarrass themselves (a la any Ben Stiller movie). I think I need to go into a 12-step program to relieve this haunted feeling of what a social liability I am. Specifically I need that step about going back and making things right with those who've been victimized by malfunctioning frontal lobe. The endnote here is: Befriend me at your own risk!


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