Thursday, January 20, 2011


Sometimes, I make a total ass of myself.

Here are a few of those instances!

I make an ass of myself when I meet musicians who I love and respect.  Like, a huge ass.

My favourite band for the past majillion years, has been Alexisonfire.  The first tattoo I ever got: lyrics from "Get Fighted" around my arm/wristular area.

As such, I have seen them every time they came to Edmonton--when I was in the country; they came twice, TWICE, since I've been in Korea.

I have had the oppourtunity to meet Dallas Green, Wade MacNeil, and George Pettit.

My meeting with Wade MacNeil went generally normal.  I went to see the Black Lungs (his side project) in concert, with the evil ex and my lovely sister.  After their set, I went to go potty, and I bumped into Wade (that's right, we're on a first name basis) on my way to the bathroom.  I told him that I loved his music, and that he did a great job on stage, yadda yadda yadda.  He gave me a hug, it was nice... haha.

Meeting Dallas Green was the first time that I made an ass of myself.  I had just gotten this haircut:

and I wasn't too sure how I felt about it, yet  (it looked a lot better all non-poofed up.  I hate when hairdressers put crap in my hair).  Shortly after getting the haircut, the evil ex wanted to go to a guitar shop on Whyte Ave.  So, we went there, and he looked at guitars for a kajillion hours.  Whilst wandering the store, I noticed a bunch of hipster looking boys, so, I, of course, decided to spy on them... the evil ex was getting his guitar porn in, why couldn't I stare at cute boys?

Then, the tattoos became recognizable...


I ran to the evil ex to get his opinion, he immediately dismissed me and told me it wasn't.  Then, I made him REALLY look.

He concurred, it was, indeed, Dallas Green!

I slowly made my way over to where he was making magical music on one of the guitars.

My breath was caught in my throat.

My palms were sweaty.

A million thoughts were racing through my head.

He glanced up at me and smiled...

Oh god!  He smiled at me!

Of all the things in the entire world I could have said or did, all I managed was to lift my right hand, do a finger wave, and squeak an awkward "hiiiii."

And then he sort of laughed.

And I ran away.

Correct.  I ran away.  MORTIFIED.

I thought that my embarrassment would have ended there, but, no.  The evil ex and I left the store, and, as we were walking down the street, who should walk by us, but DALLAS GREEN.  Who laughed, and waved, and said hi.


I am my own worst enemy.

Meeting George Pettit, in itself, was not actually an embarrassment.  In fact, I would even say it was successful.  It was the same concert that I went to with the evil ex and my sister.  George had played with the Black Lungs, as a bassist.

George is actually my musical idol.  As in, I am entirely in love with him.  I really REALLY RREEAALLLLYY wanted to meet him.

Also, we have the same birthday.

The concert ended, and we were on our way out.  I was sad that I didn't get to see George, so, I was making us dawdle.  When, who should appear... but GEORGE!


I had a normal conversation with him, I didn't feel nervous, he gave me a hug, we said goodbye, all seemed well.

Until the car ride home.

You know when you see footage of girls crying when they got to see the Beatles?

That was me.

I CRIED on the car ride home.

I didn't just cry, I BAWLED.  Outright BAWLED... for at least 20 minutes.

I am embarrassing.  I am also glad that my sister drove, and that we didn't take public transportation.  Because, that would have been even more embarrassing.

I embarrass myself a lot more often than that, in fact, I do it on a regular basis.  In entirely normal situations, too.


I was walking through Southgate Shopping Center with the evil ex, and there was this big area all sectioned off, for no apparent reason.  We were standing around it, speculating what it could be for.  I assume it was for renovations of the mural tiles or something, but we decided it would be better to think of ridiculous things.  During this particular speculation session, I got so excited about my next idea, that I yelled it out... and, I must tell you, that when I yell things when I'm excited, I sound like a ten year old who just got a new Barbie.

So, in the midst of my excitement, and to the resultant smirks of the people around us, I yelled out in the voice of an excited ten year old:


Yup.  Go me.

Another instance:

The evil ex and I were in a pet shop, looking at animals, as I so often conned him into doing, because I love imagining all the pets that I someday wish to own.  As we were wandering around the reptile room, there was one particular tank that a few people were crowded around.

It was above my eye level, so all I could see was a large shell, the shell of a really big turtle!

I, of course, became incredibly excited, and yelled out in my ten year old girl voice "IS THAT A TURTLE?!"

The people crowded around the tank turned, looked at the super excited twenty two year old woman that sounded like a ten year old girl, smirked, and wandered off.

Le sigh.

I'm good at what I do.

Anywhoodles.  I'm off to watch some more Six Feet Under.  In the forthcoming days you can possibly look forward to tales of psychotic landlords and the psychos that I attracted at my various places of employment.  Hurrah!

Oh, don't forget to read this post and snatch up some Pay it Forward goodness!



  1. I hate when stylists put crap in my hair too. Actually, I don't even like when they blow dry it- I feel like I look like a weirdo when it's all "coiffed"

  2. I carry a comb with me when I go to get my hair cut now so that I can brush it out after I leave. Hairdressers always ignore me when I ask them not to put crap in my hair. Major annoyance.

  3. Tara, when you get a chance, go over to my site. There is a little something over there for ya.

  4. I don't know why people think it's silly to get excited over things like turtles and petting zoos, those are exciting things!

  5. I thought so, too, but, apparently I'm crazy...


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