Moments of Dorkiness

[Phalon]

Merriam Webster's defines "dorky" as being foolish, stupid, or inept.

I think everyone has had a moment when they've been a dork - some people more than others (me).

Yesterday, I had one of those moments.

A friend invited me to her place. I've only been there a handful of times; we usually meet when she comes to town instead. She lives about a half hour from here, out in the country. Having not visited her house since early last fall, I needed a refresher set of directions. The roads to get there are all "number roads" - and it's pretty well known here, I hate anything to do with numbers.

Directions with street names such as Elm, Superior, or Blue Star are a whole lot easier for me to remember than "109th Avenue" to "64th St" to "Route 59" to "Old County Rd 113th"....or was it "New County Rd 113th"? If you subtract 109th Avenue from County Rd 113th (either Old or New), what do you end up with? Everything in the equation points to only one answer - it equals "lost".

In addition (which I can usually do in my head), there are no "lefts" or "rights" here; directions are always given as "turn north", "south", "east", or "west". Two direction choices are easier to remember than four. To sum it all up - without writing down how to get there, I'd never get there.

Once I hit the Interstate (I196 - one number I could remember), I looked down at my directions to see which exit to take (another number).

Get bird food.
Remind Hubs to change light-bulb in stairwell
Get light bulbs first.
Etc...

Not only have I forgotten to remind Hubs to change the light bulb for the past three days because I can't reach it, and he can't remember either, I've grabbed my "reminder" list instead of the directions to my friend's house.

Argh. I'm such a dork sometimes.

[EllieNeo]

BOLL!

*AHEM!*

you're right though, phalon. we all have those moments of "omg, i am such a frickin dork!"

i had one the other day. i went to the store specifically to get milk because we were completely out. well i walked down the aisles and i grabbed cat food, cookies, chips, chicken, sodas, and cheez-its. it wasn't until i had gotten all the way back home and gabs was helping me put stuff away that i realized it. gabs said "hey... where's the milk?" lmao. yep. totally spaced it, even though it was the ONLY thing that i went to the store to get. *rolls eyes* yeah i'm a dork.

[lolapalooza]

Dork. Now there's a word that's not been in my vernacular in many a year.

There are times when it's a private moment of 'aargh' and then there are times when it's all too public. As I was handing out gift certificates to winners one night recently, I completely embarrassed myself talking with a group of guys who had won. They're professional baseball players and they let me know this was going to be their last week playing trivia for the winter season, as they were taking off for Tucson for spring training. Now, I'm a sports fan but, generally speaking, take them out of their uniforms and those identifying uniform numbers and I pretty much can't tell local hero from local regular guy.

One dude spent last year with the Mets but still lives down the block from this pub and is apparently the reason all the other guys come out on Tuesday nights during the off season. I felt pretty sure of myself as I addressed him - uncharacteristically, I might add - and started a little chit chat about where the Mets held spring training and if he was still with them this year. I looked directly into his eyes - again, uncharacteristic of me - and asked, "Still with the Mets?" Everyone got quiet and the guy I was talking to and all the others (thanks to my peripheral vision) pointed to a totally different guy, sparking one of those Southwest moments of 'want to get away?' I felt like a ... dork. So instead of simply telling them they all look the same to me, I tried to cover and said, "Yeah, but I'm going look at you while I talk to him." Everything went downhill from there and I couldn't politely get away fast enough.

We've all got nine months, ten hopefully, to forget about this.

[Gabrielle On Nutbread]

OMG, Lola, I did something very similar once.

Me and some friends went out this one time, and we randomly met up with this one older guy. Now, he wasn't famous or anything, but all my friends seemed to know who he was. The problem was, I couldn't place him. I knew I had seen him before, but I couldn't remember where. So we were all hanging out and he caught the look on my face and said "You don't recognize me, do you?" and I said "Uhm, yeah, of course I do!" and he chuckled and said "Ok, then, what's my name?" And I just sort of stared at him blankly and said the first name that popped into my head, which, of course, was not his name. What's funny is that the second the wrong name left my mouth, I recognized him. He was our highschool science teacher, who had always insisted that his students call him by his first name. Really cool guy.

Wow, though, did I look like a dork!!! I don't think I'll ever live that one down. My friends still tease me about it, and it happened like, two years ago!

[Phalon]

HA, Ellie. Your story sounds familar. I'm sure I've done the same, but like the forgotten milk, I can't remember the details.

Dork. Now there's a word that's not been in my vernacular in many a year.

"Dork" is making a comeback, Lola. It's what all the teenagers are calling their parents these days.

And I wouldn't be so sure you'll be off the hook in nine or ten months with those baseball players. They won the trivia challenge - their memories can't be that bad.

Nice recovery comment though!

[Gabrielle On Nutbread]

Searched for a pen almost all day today, only to find it behind my ear! Felt like SUCH a dork!

[Phalon]

If only, Gabrielle, I could display such a mild case of dorkiness. But no. No, no, no...this evening I went all out, and took dork to the extreme.

Last Thursday, I received an e-mail. It was a schedule of a Master Gardener meeting. I have never been to a Master Gardener meeting even though I've been a Master Gardener for 10 years (I only know I've been one for 10 years because this past fall I noticed in a banquet announcement I was to receive an award and pin for 10 years of service). I noticed my name appearing on the e-mail as a speaker at this meeting which the e-mail stated was taking place Monday. Hmmm...news to me. I received a call on Friday from the president of the association, asking if I was attending the meeting that was to take place on Monday. I said I suppose I was since I wanted to hear what I was going to say. (Actually, I'm kind of honored - I wrote an article for a program I wanted to start here in town, they liked the idea, and are backing the program.)

Although I've never attended a meeting, I knew where the place was because I took classes there....10 years ago. I was also fairly refreshed about how to get there since I figured if I was getting an award last fall, I ought to be at the banquet to receive it.

It's about a 45 minute drive through the country. I left my house 30 minutes before the meeting was supposed to start. I arrived only five minutes late, burst through the doors, and peered into the meeting, already in progress. Hmmm, again. Suits and ties. Probably not gardeners. Oh, yeah......sh!t. This was the building they used for banquets, but their offices actually moved across town.....about five years ago, which I would have known if I had actually attended the meetings.

Standing in the lobby, I called the president (miraculously I had actually brought the scrap of paper I scribbled her phone number on). It was her home phone. Her husband had no idea where the building was located, but gave me her cell-phone number.....but said she never has it turned on. I left a message anyway saying I may be there....or I may not. Actually, probably not, because I had absolutely no clue where to go.

A man in a suit comes out of the meeting to ask if he can help. Uhmmmm....sure. We go into the waiting room of his offices, (which, is the county's mental health offices...how appropriate; no wonder why he asked if he could help me), and start searching through the phone book for the address of where I'm supposed to be speaking right about now. The phone rings. "That's your phone, Miss." Oh. Funny....like the woman I just called, I never have my cell-phone turned on; I must have forgotten to turn it off after leaving her the message.

Her husband called the building in which the meeting was taking place (although he doesn't know where it is), and told her to listen to her messages. Ta-da...I finally get directions, and burst through the door, out of breath, and a half-hour late.

Which was actually when the meeting was supposed to start. All I missed was the refreshments. Drat!!!

[Phalon]

This proves that anyone can have a dork moment.

Xena-Sis's hubs is an extremely smart guy. Fresh out of college, he was recruited by West Point to become a super-secret engineer on a super-secret submarine project. He decided the military was not for him, continued his education elsewhere, and instead works in a high-paying job in the private sector.

In addition to being a top performer in his profession, he can build, fix, tear-apart-and-put-together anything, and make it new and improved. His mind works in mysterious ways - it's quite amazing, actually.

Hubs and Xena-Sis' Hubs bought a ramshackle little fishing boat and trailer last year. Both badly in need of repair, they spent all spring fixing them to get the boat "lake-worthy" and the trailer "road-worthy" enough to actually pull the boat to the lake. Hubs sold our inflatable dinghy, and outfitted the fishing boat with the dinghy's 1960s powder-blue colored motor. Sob...I miss the dinghy; it's just not the same cruising the channel in an aluminum fishing boat....as opposed to a once-red, now faded-to-pink patched inflatable 20-some year old dinghy with a 40-some year old motor. (eye-roll)

Fixing the boat in spring, fishing in summer, and come fall they needed a place to store it through winter. I wasn't having it in our yard. Xena-Sis wasn't having it sitting in hers. They took it to Xena's-Sis n' her Hubs' property - a wooded, swampy piece of place land a bit south of here, on the Lake, with only a fallen down cabin-like building sitting on it. The land was purchased last year, and Xena-Sis's hubs has been busy rebuilding the cabin. He built a wooden fence around the dinghy, with a padlocked gate to keep would-be thieves from stealing their "baby" over winter.

It's spring. Fishin' time. Hubs and Xena-Sis's Hubs drove my truck down yesterday to pick up the boat....did I mention this thing is pulled by my 20-some year old baby? Pfft!

Hubs looks at their pride and joy sitting on the trailer of which they are equally proud, and looks at the gate of the newly erected fence. "Uhm....."

The engineer, who is a mathematical genius and a master of all trades, built a fence with a gate that is too narrow to get the boat through.

[Mini Mia]

Hey! It saved it from getting STOLEN, didn't it!?!

[Phalon]

LMAO. Yes, Joxie, that's certainly one way to look at it!

[vox]

Well I certainly had a moment of Dorkiness today!

Whilst taking Mum and Dad-in-Law shopping to our local ASDA store, I needed to go urgently to the toilet. Went in, nearly pulled my pants down before I looked around and thought "Hmmm, they are funny shaped wash basins!" and quickly retreated out of the door! I had absent mindedly walked into the Men's room! What a Dork!

[Phalon]

<snicker>

I've done the same thing, Vox....at least a couple of times that I can remember. It may be more, but I've blotted it from my mind due to embarrassment.

[stepper]

How hard is it to make toasted cheese? It's not like we're talking 12 layer lasagna with seven exotic secret ingredients. Bread, cheese, butter the bread before placing in pan, cook both sides and cheese goes in the middle. That's pretty much it isn't it? So the other day I came home from work and for what ever reason, I was tired out. Gotta nap before dinner tired out. Steppet decided that we were having toasted cheese sandwiches and chicken noodle soup. Did I mention I needed a nap? I know I mentioned it to her, and shortly after getting home I was napping. Soundly. Now, Steppet, thoughtful person that she is, elected to get things going so they'd be ready when I woke up from the nap. Nice of her huh!
Ever take a nap that turned into a bit more than a nap? You know the kind I mean. You wake up and aren't sure what time it is, what day it is, and hope you haven't forgotten something important. Then you look at the clock and panic for a second because you know you are late for something, and finally you wake up enough to realize you've been sleeping for a couple hours and it's night time and everything is okay. That's what I did. Steppet on the other hand started the soup and sandwiches a bit too soon because I said "nap" meaning sleep and she thought "nap" meant "short time with eyes closed but not really asleep". Did I mention I was tried - really tired? I'm sure we can all see where this is now going.
Nap is over. Having been jolted out of sleep and panicing because I wasn't sure of the time, my nerves were a bit strained when I dragged my sorry butt out of bed because I smelled the chicken noodle soup. Without bothering to explain that she'd started cooking this stuff when I started my nap and was distracted by something really important like an extended visit to the bathroom - Steppet has soup and sandwiches at the ready because she heard me moving and finished up the toasted cheese sandwiches. Warm soup ("Not hot?" I'm thinking) but perfectly toasted sandwiches. I went for the sandwich first. It was immediately obvious that this was not your normal sandwich. Sandwitches might be more appropriate. The top was pretty and perfect - the bottom was charcoal. Lincoln could have use it to write his homework on his shovel. It would have been an overly long night if I fussed about this because we were both in a mood.
It was late, I was still hungry, so I ate it.

Question. Who's moment of dorkiness was this? Mine for actually eating the thing or hers for not simply throwing away/hiding the evidence and going for a do-over?

This is not an official poll and no one will be head accountable for their response. (Phalon is not going to be able to resist this one when she sees it.)

[Phalon]

Question. Who's moment of dorkiness was this? Mine for actually eating the thing or hers for not simply throwing away/hiding the evidence and going for a do-over?

Actually, I thought it was pretty ingenius of Steppet to present the sandwich ugly side down, and pretty side up!

Hubs is usually in charge of grilled cheese; the girls prefer it that way because mine inevitably turn out like Steppet's. I get the first side all nice and perfectly done, but once I flip it, the second side usually ends up black, (usually because the tomato soup is done at this point, and I sacrifice the sandwiches instead ending up with a charred soup pan). Dorky or not, I've eaten blackened grilled cheese. I've also removed the blackened sides, and grilled single slices of bread to replace them.

I cook a damned fine hot dog though - they are better when charred at bit on the outside.

And hey - I've finally mastered the art of microwave popcorn.

[stepper]

O O O! I love fried hot dogs! I usually split 'em down the middle and fry them up. And fried bologna is good too!

[Phalon]

Me giving directions today over the phone: "If you're looking to the north, then it's to the west."

After I hang up, it dawns on me what I'd just said. What direction would it be if the person was looking to the south? Or to the east?

This would be why I could never get a job at Map Quest.

[Phalon]

This thread or the "Harrowing Experience of the Day" thread? I debated. It seems to fit better here. Though a perfect place to put this would be something titled "OMG!!!! I AM SO F***ING STUPID!!!"

Other people who blog for the magazine comment on my blogs, and I leave comments on theirs, which is what I was doing the other evening...

...the evening after my writing group here in town met. The woman who runs the thing always throws out a few writing suggestions for the following month's meeting. "Write a short piece including the following three topics: Sex, religion, and mystery", she said.

Riding home from the library on my bike, a thought popped into my head for the assignment: Sex and chocolate - they both have similarities. Make it committing adultery and eating chocolate, and the religious aspect is brought into it: both are decadently sinful. Thinking I would use this in some way, I typed out a few ideas and phrases into a Word document when I got home.

Back to the blog comments. The comment section lately hasn't been making paragraph breaks for some reason which bugs the heck out of me because it feels like I'm thinking one long run-on thought without a breather. So I type my comments in a Word document first, then copy and paste so the paragraph breaks show up.

Can you guess where this is going? Yep, when I copy and pasted, I inadvertently copy and pasted my ideas for the 'sex, religion, and mystery thing' along with my comments to the guy's blog.

One part went something like, "An adulteress willingly spreads her legs, while a chocoholic screams in protest watching her thighs spread."

Did I mention this is a family oriented, straight-laced type magazine, who once edited out the reason asparagus was considered an aphrodisiac (think about its shape) because it was considered too racy in my printed article? Did I mention the website's comment section has NO 'edit' or 'delete' option!

Oh, and also it was Friday evening, after the offices closed. I was afraid other readers would complain, (and I have no idea if the editors could see the humor in my flub), and the offending comment would jeopardize the upcoming printed articles they assigned to me (the articles I get paid for).

I tried all the phone numbers I had; I left my favorite editor a frantic message. I sent e-mails to all the editors. I sent the blog writer guy an e-mail. I looked his phone number up on the Internet (it's amazing what little information you need), called, and left a message.

He called back. "Is Phalon there?"

Yes. Hysterical laughter came through the phone lines.

Out of I'm-not-sure-what, I called the woman who runs the writing group, I'm guessing to either blame her, or to seek her sympathy.

Hysterical laughter came through the phone lines again.

Hubs rolled his eyes.

Everything covered now, there was nothing to be done but wait for one of the editors to return to the office and delete the comment. Did I mention they were all out of town for the weekend at a three-day conference?

Sigh. It was finally taken down yesterday. As far as I know no one complained, and I still have a writing gig with them....and a story to write about sex, religion, and mystery. I think I've got the mystery part covered: How is it possible for me to be such a dork!

[Mini Mia]

You poor thing. I don't know if Monday's panic would qualify, but even so, I've done other things that have made me flustered like a chicken with it's head cut off. Glad it all worked out.

[stepper]

"An adulteress willingly spreads her legs, while a chocoholic screams in protest watching her thighs spread."

First, I feel really bad for you...when I'm not snickering...and I've got almost got that under control. No, really, I do! Secondly, if you get tired of the tame family friendly blogs, you have an obvious talent that lies in other areas. You could simultaneously write several things and spread yourself around. Sort of.

[Phalon]

If I had to make my living being graceful, I'd surely starve.

I fell off the back of a pickup truck yesterday at work. No, no - more accurately, I walked off the back of a pickup...backwards. Since when did pickups get so high, and tailgates get so short? Helping two guys load a tree into the bed of the truck, I took a step backward expecting to set my foot on something solid, and found only air...then found myself sprawled on my back in the gravel parking lot (thank goodness it wasn't in the other lot....the concrete one).

"OMG! Are you okay?!"

Uhm....

Only jarred knees, shoulder, and wrist, embedded gravel in the heel of my hand, sore butt (good thing there's some padding there), bruised ego, and wounded pride...but yeah, I'm okay.

Nobody just walks off the back of a pickup; what a dorky thing to do. "Oh, I've done that a couple of times", admits Hubs.

Yeah, Hubs, but you're accident prone.

And, I guess, so am I.

[stepper]

Sounds like a serious owie Phalon. Hope you're okay.

[Phalon]

Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Only the heel of my hand is still sore, but other than that even the bruised ego, and wounded pride has healed.

[Phalon]

There was a soiree last night; a couple of times a year a group of friends and I get together for an evening of light dinner, drinks, and gossip. Though I do things with individuals in the group often, it's been about six months since all five of us got together, and I was really looking forward to it.

Work was called off about an hour early due to hail, which worked out good because I could use the extra time. I got home, showered, and dressed before BP came home from school, and Hubs shortly after. Made a quick light dinner for her; the plan being that I'd get her off to volleyball practice and pick up LX from her college class in one fell swoop while Hubs fixed dinner for himself and LX. LX calls just before I walked out the door to tell me that her class was extended by a half hour due to it having to be cut short next week for conferences. This worked out good too - I could run into the grocery before picking her up, and grab some hors d'oeuvres type thing which would look like I made, which I did not have time to make.

When I got out of the grocery store, there was still about twenty minutes before I had to pick up LX. I ran home and arranged the pre-made hors d'oevres (spinach-avocado dip and pita chips) on a platter so it'd look as if I had time to make it. Ran back out to get LX.

Got her home, tasted the chips and dip to make sure it was acceptably not-grocery store made tasting, then left for the soiree only 10 minutes late.

Spent another five minutes looking for my friend's house in the dark...because I expected it to be lit up, with a few cars outside, and saw no such thing; the house was completely dark.

Maybe I had the wrong house? The wrong street? Perhaps she moved and I didn't know because it's been a while since I've seen her?

Ran home to check the e-mail.

I had the right house. But the wrong day.

[stepper]

Oh my. I hope the right day is future instead of past.

[Phalon]

Nope, Stepper - it was the evening before, d@mnit. I called to apologize for being "late". Kinda funny - I'm notoriously known for always being 10 minutes late (I do not, despite rumors, plan this; it's just some strange phenomena that always happens). When I called, my friend said, "We figured you were late; we held off eating for a while waiting - but 24 hours late?! We couldn't wait that long!"

Ah, well....I suppose it happens to everyone, (or at least, I'm not the only one). I relayed the story to my boss-lady yesterday. She said last week a friend invited her over for lunch. When my boss showed up at her friend's house, her friend was perplexed. It was then my boss realized she was at the wrong friend's.

At least I had that part right.

[stepper]

Personally, when this kind of stuff happens to me, I start mentioning my age and blame it on that. It’s so much easier on the ego when you can pass to blame to something beside idiocy. You know, you could blame it on the kids!

[Phalon]

You know, you could blame it on the kids!

Yes, it's one of the many perks of having them.

[Phalon]

I could probably live in this thread without much effort at all.

Anyone here ever watch "Friends"? Each "Friends" episode was conveniently titled for easy recall when referring back to it for whatever reason; the titles all start with the words "The One With...".

In "The One With Barry and Mindy's Wedding", Rachel is the maid-of-honor in her ex-fiancee's (the one she left at the alter) and her former best friend's wedding; just prior to the wedding she uses the restroom, and unknowingly walks down the aisle with the back of her dress stuck into her pantyhose.

Well.

BP wanted to go to Easter service today at the church where she goes to youth group. I had to use the restroom during the service....and of course we were sitting in the front row.

And of course I had on sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose.

[Scrappy Amazon]

OMG......I am soooooo sorry.

[Mini Mia]

Oh, man. I hope you were wearing underwear.