Thursday, November 29, 2007

I Really Shouldn't Be Permitted Out in Public

Seriously, folks.

In the past six weeks or so I've left my make-up at the house, worn mismatched shoes... what more could I do?

Apparently, I could wear a dress with a paneled skirt, on which two of the panels, unbeknownst to me, had, erm... separated.

For about a foot.

On the back.

Extending a couple of inches above my panty line.

I'm just grateful I was wearing black underwear. Good grief.

So, effectively I've been half-mooning my entire office this morning. I'm currently at home knocking the wrinkles out of my emergency backup outfit and wondering just why they let me run around like that for an entire morning.

Then again? Not so sure I really want to know.

I'm going to start wearing a burqa or something. I swear.

*headdesk*

5 comments:

Mark said...

It's not as bad as the time my shots fell down on me. that's why I now wear Boxers instead of briefs :) small piece of advice wear a belt AND suspenders when you have over 3 dollars in change, wallet, pocket knife, and tape measure in your pockets :)

Angel said...

Oh man......I remember in middle school, the zipper on my shorts broke and I had to use a safety pin the rest of the day. ::still turning red at the memory::

Hope your wrists are feeling better ((Hugs))

+PHc said...

OK. Here's one for you. I've never spoken of this, although I'm not the only one to have known about it. (-And I don't know anything about your blog except this entry, and some mention of bleeding ? in "About Me." I found your blog by its great title.) OK. So here goes: Although I can be quite competent, one of the symptoms of my mood disorder and medications for it is loss of sense of time - including monthly time. I'm sure to some greater or lesser degree all women have had some timely mishap, BUT - One sunny day at the beginning of a ferry ride across lake Geneva in the company of world health VIP delegates to the International AIDS Conference at Geneva in 1998, I realized my period (which starts heavy the first hour) started. I had to sit in my light beige dress for the interminable boat ride in paralyzing fear of standing up to even find out if there was a restroom on the little boat. I was, obviously the last to stand to de-board, and awkwardly dis-maneuvered people's polite gestures for me to go ahead of them. We then had a long, heart-pounding walk together back to the huge AIDS conference center arena, with blood all but dripping down my legs. MY survival denial mode was to think that all that mattered was that the people I was with did not see. Masses of international delegates? - they don't exist or can not see me. THEN came the horrible moment of parting ways which resulted in my having no alternative, but to walk straight forward ahead of them to my entrance, pretending I didn't know. I heard the executive director of the AIDS Foundation I was on the board of directors of, literaly drop everything she was carrying onto the ground (I think on purpose to distract the rest of them - all men - including the director of the office of AIDS of Health and Human Services in DC. I heard them over my shoulder ask her if she was alright, and I heard her act exaggeratedly flustered. I had NEVER witnessed flustering by her under all kinds of high tension circumstances. So I don't know who all of them saw, but I walked straight through security, into the world crowded, blood-sensitive throngs of World AIDS Conference delegates, activists, researchers, politicos,and pharmaceutical reps with the stone cold courage of no choice, to the nearest women's room, where I backed myself into a corner, sopped up as much liquid soap as possible into as many paper towels as possible, and backed myself into a stall, stripped down to my bra and sandals, and washed everything in toilet water as quietly as possible. I wrung everything out as best as possible, put everything back on and sat there for got knows how long, till my dress might pass for dry. There was somehow no stain at all. I then went to a dinner I could not miss, with some of the same people - feeling like my lack of stains and proud mood might prove it never happened, and then took the train "home" along the edge of the lake in the comfort of darkness, to the town of Lausanne where I was staying. So. Now. I admitted it happened. Ten years later. I don't know what justified explicative would offer any relief, even here. But even these things - we survive. Take care, and better day for you tomorrow!

Scott said...

Amanda, I am glad you are back. I'm sorry, that must have been embarassing!

Mauigirl said...

One time when I was working in our company's old Word Processing Center (about 30 women, luckily not men) I'd been to the ladies' room and had put paper on the seat to sit on. I managed to get a piece of it caught in my pants when I pulled them up and returned to my desk - trailing a long piece of toilet paper! Everyone noticed it and started laughing. Luckily I have a sense of humor and didn't let it get to me! ;-)

I think +PHC has us both beat though!