My Beautiful Wickedness

A new feature! Embarrassing Revelations!
September 9, 2008, 9:42 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Let’s call them “Embarrassing Revelations.” These are laughable things I’ve done or stupid ideas that I held far too long and whatnot that I could choose to remain silent about, but what the hell.

When I was in college, I attempted to communicate my soulfulness to a would-be boyfriend by transcribing Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet by hand. In purple ink.

Until about three years ago, I didn’t realize that Eeyore’s name was onomatopoeia.

I spent the entire night of my brother’s ITT graduation pretending I was “deaf and dumb,” complete with trying to pantomime my way through ordering dinner at some restaurant in German Village. I had just read a book on Helen Keller and I wanted to be heroic and tragic and beautiful like her instead of a dorky buck-toothed nerd with a southern accent. My attempts at faux-ASL must have made me look like a spaz and a half, but it was also my tenth birthday and I was a little pissed that my parents were paying more attention to Larry than to me.


15 Comments so far
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Khalil Gibran in purple ink? I don’t believe I’d’ve shared that one.

Comment by nm

It went with the unicorns on the stationery.

Comment by bridgett

I like to think on these things as indications of how far I’ve traveled.

Comment by bridgett

Heh, yes. Well, along those lines I had this as my bookplate in high school. (The mere use of bookplates in high school doesn’t strike me as having been embarrassing in the same way, since my parents used them.

Comment by nm

I saved up to buy bookplates! God, what a geek. Little gnomes, elvish warriors, rearing unicorns, fairy folk — it was real Tolkien-fest, I think.

Comment by bridgett

I collect bookplates.


::hangs head in shame::

Comment by Katherine Coble

But I bet you never tried to simultaneously translate your brother’s graduation speaker into faux ASL. Bridgett for the geek win!

Comment by bridgett

No, but I have a friend named Gerald who invented his own ‘language’ which we called Geraldese; streams of syllables of completely regular-sounding gibberish would pour, most expressively, from his lips, and the rest of use would nod or respond in English as if we understood him. Onlookers and eavesdroppers were completely befuddled, and would often interrupt us to ask whether he was speaking this or that language.

I only ever used that one bookplate. I would reorder and reorder (stubborn consisstency, that’s my motto), and then after my first year in college I gave it up. Collecting actual used bookplates sounds kind of cool, though.

Comment by nm

I have a friend named Gerald who wrote a marvelous economic treatise describing the trade and currency of a place that doesn’t actually exist: Glorantha. You can get a copy of it here:

Buzz in, Gerald. I know you’re out there!

Comment by bridgett

I did try to learn the alphabet that was in the back of my Helen Keller book when I was 8, but that’s as far as that went.

You can by all means have the geek win today.

Comment by Katherine Coble

OK, we have got to put these Geralds together.

Comment by nm

Yes, he lives in NC, so I haven’t had a chance to see him in a while. We had tentative plans for him to come visit, but there were roofs to put on and bills to pay, Maybe I can talk him into a Nashville rendezvous.

Comment by bridgett

Well, the Gerald I know lives in St. Louis, so that won’t help.

Comment by nm

“Unicorns.” Just the reiteration of that single word brings back the worst hangover in my personal history.

Comment by imfunny2

Ah….wow. Yeah. Unfortunately I have two candidates for that and you were in on them both. One was the night I broke my ankle at the progressive cocktail party and the nurse wouldn’t give me painkillers until I sobered up. (Up until then, it had been such a great party and one of the few that I ever got pictures of. And the really good looking Washura twins came! And then, all hell and several ligaments tore loose. That ankle never was right afterwards.)

The other was one time that I was running around with you and Terry (doesn’t narrow it down much) and some dispensible boys the summer I broke up with Rich. You probably know this, but I’ve forgotten. Whose pick-up truck were we in? (I know that my dad didn’t own one until later and Terry never had one and you don’t drive, yet we were definitely in a short-bed pick-up truck that night. Was that the time that the guys from Buffalo came down looking for love in Northeastern Ohio?) You know, I still can’t drink tequila. There are things that you do that are *bad* *ideas*. That was one of them.

Hey, another set of Embarrassing Revelations!

Comment by bridgett

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