Since I have not written a decent blog in who knows how long, I owe you big. I will pay up in the form of a “Bethanyism”. The story happened over four years ago, but it embarrasses me so badly (even still) that I’ve been hesitant to write it. Like I said, I owe you big. So here it goes:
I was a little nervous to give the presentation—not really because I was afraid of getting a bad grade, or even that I was afraid of public speaking. The main reason that I was nervous was that SHE was also in the class. SHE was the wife of my former ex-boyfriend.
I was a ridiculously happy newlywed, but the fact the SHE was in the class unsettled me. I felt like I needed to prove myself to her. I needed to show her that, although she may have ended up with HIM, I was the cooler, prettier, smarter, and better-in-every-way girl. I needed her to see that all the “crazy ex-girlfriend” stories HE had no doubt told her about me were simply untrue.
The presentation started off well. My topic was male-stereotypes in the media. I talked about how men were pigeonholed on TV and then I showed a funny commercial illustrating my point. Everyone laughed at the clip and seemed interested enough in my research.
That’s when I made the mistake.
In retrospect, I realized that using such a word was very bad judgment on my part. But I didn’t think twice about it before giving the presentation. I had been taught (by well-meaning parents) to be proud of my body and not to shy away from the anatomical names of human body parts. I could say things like urethra and cervix just as unabashedly as I could recite the pledge of allegiance.
So, after talking about how men were stereotyped by the media, I listed the ways men were impacted by those negative messages. I talked about how men felt the need to dumb themselves down to fit in with “the guys.” I talked about how men felt badly if they didn’t make a six-figure income. I talked about how men even turned to surgical procedures to look the way the media told them they were supposed to look. These procedures included liposuction, pec implants, and… (drumroll please)… p*nile implants.
Yes, I said it. I said “p*nile.”
(although I dare not do write it now in fear of attracting all sorts of internet pervs to my blog).
The class gasped. They could not believe I said what I said. A few people started chuckling.
It took me a minute to figure out what I’d said to cause such a reaction.
Then I realized that they were laughing because I said “p*nile”.
And then I realized that I should never have used such a repulsive, vulgar, and weird word.
Then I felt like I was repulsive, vulgar, and weird. I was ashamed.
I quickly tried to correct my mistake. I waved my hands in front of my face and said “I know it sounds crazy, but it is a really BIG problem.”
Then the class roared with laughter. ROARED.
My face had never felt so hot in my life. I finished my presentation and quickly sat back down in my seat. I wanted to cry. I had embarrassed myself in from of forty of my peers and worst of all, in front of HER. SHE would no doubt go home and have a good chuckle with HIM about that "crazy ex-girlfriend."
And that wasn't even the last time I looked like a total fool in that class…
... but I'll tell you that story when I really really owe you.
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This is the front room, but I like to think of it as the "Christmas tree" room.
I like how the house has been kept up-to-date, but still maintains the craftsman bungalo feel.
