I like imperfect people. I don’t like to read those blogs where everyone is happy and the kids are adorably smart and the house is always clean and decorated beautifully. I like messes. I like people who can roll their eyes and laugh at themselves. I like people who are willing to admit that they are teetering on the edge of this or that disaster. All of this is why I like Abby. You have never met such an imperfect person as Abby and I mean that as a compliment.
Abby wants us all to have the opportunity to showcase our most imperfect selves every Friday with the Brand New Meme: Feckless Friday. Actually this is the third week but I haven’t had it together enough to post yet because I am feckless.
(As an aside, I just asked Noah to tell me something dumb I’ve done and he said, “I know you’ve done a lot of dumb things but I can’t think of anything right now.” Note his confidence that it’s his memory that’s faulty and not, perhaps, a clean record devoid of any fecklessness on my part.)
Well, I will tell you about my first day at work. There’s not much of a story and my twitter friends already know but I have this bad habit of not always checking to see if my skirt isn’t all wrought up in my waistband (or I did — this last incident cured me). So I was dressed all nice for my first day of work last February in this polka-dot skirt that has a built-in slip and some classy little blazer thingie or something because, you know, my first day of work and I want to be all impressive and stuff so that nobody fires me before I can even get a paycheck. And I come out of the bathroom and meet up with my boss and we’re about to head into my office when she says, “Oh! Oops!” and yanks my skirt down in back because I was kind of mooning her. My skirt was tucked into my tights. Because that’s the kind of girl I am — the kind who unintentionally moons people because she’s hazy with details like the detail about making sure your skirt isn’t tucked up into your waistband.
At least they weren’t sheer tights, right?
(The horror is that I have done this several other times. Like the time I mooned my Grandpa and the time I kept going up to the salad bar at Wendy’s because the table full of cute guys was smiling at me every time I went up there and it wasn’t because I was adorable — although I surely was — but because my skirt was tucked into my Limited Express black and white checked string bikini underwear.)
Hahahaha, “cured.” We’ll see. Thanks for playing!
umm now I am picturing the string bikini underwear with the big glasses and feathered hair from below.
got some brain bleach I could use?
The big glasses pic? At that age I was wearing granny underwear and I have a feckless story about that, too, but perhaps I will save it for another day.
So here’s a story you can appreciate, Dawn… In seventh grade I switched schools in the middle of the year. I was “the new kid” and I decided to wear a navy blue velvet blazer (because, as you say, “I wanted to be impressive and all that stuff…) Anyway, at the end of the day, someone said to me, “Hey, you’ve got glue on you.” I look down to find the longest piece of snot encrusted into my lapel. Thank God this kid really believed it was glue or the total course of my life would have been remarkably different…
I LOVE this. Because I’m feckless as all get-out. I frequently call myself, and my family for that matter, “wildly imperfect.”
[...] the idea for the Feckless Friday post from Dawn, who got it from Abby. Dawn writes beautifully, and I love what she writes about those of us who are imperfect (like my little family and I are). In fact, I’ve described us as “wildly [...]
Oh thank you Dawn, you just had me laughing until I was almost sobbing! That Wendy’s story is priceless!
Love!