Therefore, I felt it necessary to share them with you.
AND MY PERSONAL FAVORITE...
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Lack of Awkward, Pt II
Due to the lack of awkwardness in my everyday life,
I will share a couple songs that, without a doubt, manage to make things awkward for everyone within hearing range. Never fails. Trust me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=86u1zJzFHfQ
and an instant awkward classic,
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BKPoHgKcqag
Friday, February 26, 2010
By the Numbers
I would like to start off this blog by apologizing for my lack of blogging in the past three weeks. My awkwardness has subsided just to spite me, and I am rather sick of it. Simply put, my life has been less than exciting the past few weeks. I'm not saying my recent non-existent awkward lifestyle is necessarily a problem, but without these awkard situations I just don't have much to talk about. Which is extremely lame because I have to post blogs in order to get a grade. Hm. What to do, what to do?
Well, I suppose I can discuss some of the most memorable awkward moments since the day I was born. I will give you three examples to make up for the three blogs I have failed to post.
Awkward Experience No. 1:
When I was about seven or eight years old I went to my MaMa's (grandmother on my father's side) house for my birthday celebration. I was a happy camper in my adorable matching Mickey Mouse outfit and my new pink Barbie tricycle (Yes, I still rode a tricycle when I was seven. Yes, it did match my Mickey Mouse outfit. No, I am not ashamed). The festivities had subsided, therefore my cousins and I decided to play in the backyard. There was a huge tree with a treehouse in it. In other words, there was a large square of thin wood nailed over a few branches with little piece of wood nailed to the trunk leading to this less than safe treehouse. We decided to give it a go. Getting up the thing and playing on it was not the problem... until I realized I was stuck. Yes, stuck. Somehow my new pink shorts AND underwear had snagged on a nail and left me stationary. It was absolutely awful. All of my cousins laughed. I cried. It was truly devastating. My dad had to climb his huge six foot frame up the tree and unhook me by taking off my shorts and underwear. I was distraught and embarrassed. Mom came to pick me soon afterwards. The end.
Awkward Experience No. 2:
This is not one specific experience. It is something that, unfortunately, happens to me quite often. So, my mother and I go to the mall/target/kohls/ etc. quite often to remedy our hatred for being at home. This would not be problematic if she didn't manage to disappear when I look away or linger in a particular spot for three seconds. And her ability to meander away from me quickly wouldn't be too bad if I didn't have the uncanny ability of assuming the middle aged woman beside me was my mother. I really believe this only happens to me. I will be in an aisle, and I'll pick up a shirt or something and turn around and say, "Hey, Mom- look at how disgusting this shirt is?", and look up afterwards only to see a stranger looking at me awkwardly. I then have to apologize and walk away awkwardly to attempt to find my real mother. It truly is an awkward experience.
Awkward Experience No. 3:
Well, I suppose I can discuss some of the most memorable awkward moments since the day I was born. I will give you three examples to make up for the three blogs I have failed to post.
Awkward Experience No. 1:
When I was about seven or eight years old I went to my MaMa's (grandmother on my father's side) house for my birthday celebration. I was a happy camper in my adorable matching Mickey Mouse outfit and my new pink Barbie tricycle (Yes, I still rode a tricycle when I was seven. Yes, it did match my Mickey Mouse outfit. No, I am not ashamed). The festivities had subsided, therefore my cousins and I decided to play in the backyard. There was a huge tree with a treehouse in it. In other words, there was a large square of thin wood nailed over a few branches with little piece of wood nailed to the trunk leading to this less than safe treehouse. We decided to give it a go. Getting up the thing and playing on it was not the problem... until I realized I was stuck. Yes, stuck. Somehow my new pink shorts AND underwear had snagged on a nail and left me stationary. It was absolutely awful. All of my cousins laughed. I cried. It was truly devastating. My dad had to climb his huge six foot frame up the tree and unhook me by taking off my shorts and underwear. I was distraught and embarrassed. Mom came to pick me soon afterwards. The end.
Awkward Experience No. 2:
This is not one specific experience. It is something that, unfortunately, happens to me quite often. So, my mother and I go to the mall/target/kohls/ etc. quite often to remedy our hatred for being at home. This would not be problematic if she didn't manage to disappear when I look away or linger in a particular spot for three seconds. And her ability to meander away from me quickly wouldn't be too bad if I didn't have the uncanny ability of assuming the middle aged woman beside me was my mother. I really believe this only happens to me. I will be in an aisle, and I'll pick up a shirt or something and turn around and say, "Hey, Mom- look at how disgusting this shirt is?", and look up afterwards only to see a stranger looking at me awkwardly. I then have to apologize and walk away awkwardly to attempt to find my real mother. It truly is an awkward experience.
Awkward Experience No. 3:
The experience I am about to share with you is a true winner in the realm of awkwardness, so let's get right to it. In eighth grade I had Mr. Goodrid as a home room teacher. Therefore, I had to cats test in his room with the rest of the kids in my room. You are most likely already aware, but cats testing is quite possibly the easiest form of testing EVER created. On top of that, you have an ample amount of time to finish. So, here I am, with at least 2 hours left before the next test- what else was there to do besides sleep. About thirty minutes later I am woken up by Mr. Goodrid hovering over me and asking me if I'm okay. I think to myself, "Um... I cannot even lift my head right now or else the pool of drool under my chin will be revealed." As if that's not embarrassing enough, a girl in my homeroom later tells me that I had been snoring loudly and it was "so freaking hilarious, oh my gosh." Yeah. Awkard. Embarrassing. My life. The end.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
There's A Lack of Awkward Here
To restate the title of this particular post- there's been a lack of awkward in my life since my last post. I am not sure whether I should be thrilled or disappointed about
this? But all emotions aside, I could not consider myself a winner unless of course I provided the necessary awkward to make the reader feel uncomfortable. So, sorry if this takes you out of your comfort zone, but today you will become an uncomfortable watcher. I have taken the time out of my night to provide the most awkward videos/photographs/ entire websites fulfilled with ample amounts of awkwardness I could find... YOU'RE WELCOME.
PS. I also decided to count the number of times I used awkward in that short paragraph. Only 4... guess I need to work on that for next time.
http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/
Here's some of my favorite awkward finds from my favorite awkward website:
Notice kid with headgear, and possibly naked Mother? Awkward.
Socially awkward man obsessed with neutrals. Love it.
Moving on...
Awkward smooches are never any fun.
I tried to find a video that was actually legitimately funny- no such luck. I'll get back to you on that one.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Keep It to Yourself
Due to the fact that I have strep throat as I am writing this- and would delight in nothing more than the comfort of my heating pad and massive queen size bed... I plan on keeping this blog short and sweet. (Except for the fact that the content I am writing about is neither- oh well.)
So, here goes. This Saturday was the annual speech tournament at Assumption High School in Louisville, KY. As I previously informed you, I had strep throat and decided to skip out on my rounds and be there for moral support, more of less. I could either be found curled in the fetal position using my vomit inducing green-colored North Face jacket as neck support- or sitting in a team mates room causing an unnecessary amount of ruckus every time I attempted to breathe...
ANYWAY. At the conclusion of the tourney, the team decided on St. Matthew's Mall for dinner. This proved to be a bittersweet decision because, in case you were unaware, Forever 21 inhabits this particular mall. We had only an hour. So, we (and by we, I mean the girls) hurriedly scarfed down the over priced food to allow ourselves enough time to browse Forever 21 to blow the remnants of the 20 bucks our mothers gave us before our trek to Louisville.
So, fast forward to the wait in line at F21. I am standing there with Marissa Lee. She is purchasing an adorable purse. Little did we know- we were about to be submitted to an excruciating amount of awkwardness.
Let me set this up for you. Forever 21 is much like Claire's in the sense that everything is smashed together and there's hardly any room to breathe. Keeping this in mind- picture yourself behind a couple covered in tattoos and tight jeans that undoubtedly transported themselves to this mall on a motorcycle... Alright, getting the picture? Not so bad... UNTIL, the Public Display of Affection presents itself. I am the type of person who doesn't enjoy PDA much as it is, but I'm talking Kat Von D + boob implants + that creepy bald guy from Orange County Choppers + gross PDA + MY ALREADY UNEASY STOMACH DUE TO MY ILLNESS = bad forever 21 experience. I mean, maybe I'm overreacting... actually no, I'm not- at all. Let me break it down for you in short, choppy, incomplete sentences. Hand in each other's back pockets. Excessive butt squeezing. Hand over vaginal area (YES. SERIOUSLY. OVER THE PANTS. GROSS.) Creepy lip biting. All of this OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER.
Well. I'm done. I shall now suppress this memory as best as I can. Just spreading the awkwardness... My job here is done, I believe.
On the bright side. I met Ben Folds and Robert Pattinson prior to my horrific F21 experience...
and I have the pictures to prove it!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Now, Let Me Introduce Myself
I would like to take this opportunity to introduce myself:
My full name is Madison Raye Wathen. Back in the day, when it was cool to make fun of people using spin offs of their last name I was referred to using variations of 'waffle'. Madison Waffle, Madison Waffle House- or simply, waffle. You know, I've always considered myself lucky, since you couldn't make Wathen into something creepy and perverted, and besides- I love waffles.
I'm sixteen years old. No, I do not have my license yet. Have a chat with my mom about that if you'd life to know more. Ugh. But anyways, I'm sixteen going on seventeen (tehe.) and it basically sucks. I say this because I really am an old lady at heart, and the greater good of my friends have graduated. This makes getting through these last couple years of high school rather excruciating.
I find that I am a rather quirky person, and since I enjoy lists as opposed to full paragraphs full of unnecessary details, I will provide you with a list of examples to further your knowledge of thy quirkiness:
- I never use the first page of a notebook. It's bad luck. Seriously.
- I say seriously a lot. And by a lot, I seriously mean a lot. Seriously.
- I refer to everything as creepy. Even if it's not. That's creepy.
- I think washing pants after every wear is such a waste of time and water and laundry detergent. So, I don't. Ew, gross, I know. Shhhh.
- I love trees. Not only are they green, my favourite colour, they keep me breathing. What could be more pleasant than that? Oh, and they're easy to draw.
- I prefer the English spelling of words, you know: colour, favourite, grey... so on.
- I am borderline obsessed with Bob Dylan.
- I know every single line to The Incredibles, Monsters Inc., and Mean Girls.
- This list could go on and on, but I am bored already too, sooooo MOVING ON.
As you should be well aware, this blog is entitled 'An Awkward Self- Existence'. I believe I should specify what I mean by this before
I write anymore blog posts, for readers sake of course. By awkward, I do not mean socially awkward. I'm really not. I am completely capable of completing everyday tasks and talking to strangers and such without awkwardness. By awkward, I am referring to those little occurrences that I seriously think could ONLY happen to me. That there is no possible way for these things or these thoughts to run through anyone else's mind. I am writing this blog for my benefit really, in hopes that someone is reading it and saying to themselves, 'WOW, I thought I was the only one...' Any if you're not relating to the subject being discussed in any way shape or form, then I hope you just feel plain awkward, mister.
My full name is Madison Raye Wathen. Back in the day, when it was cool to make fun of people using spin offs of their last name I was referred to using variations of 'waffle'. Madison Waffle, Madison Waffle House- or simply, waffle. You know, I've always considered myself lucky, since you couldn't make Wathen into something creepy and perverted, and besides- I love waffles.
I'm sixteen years old. No, I do not have my license yet. Have a chat with my mom about that if you'd life to know more. Ugh. But anyways, I'm sixteen going on seventeen (tehe.) and it basically sucks. I say this because I really am an old lady at heart, and the greater good of my friends have graduated. This makes getting through these last couple years of high school rather excruciating.
I find that I am a rather quirky person, and since I enjoy lists as opposed to full paragraphs full of unnecessary details, I will provide you with a list of examples to further your knowledge of thy quirkiness:
- I never use the first page of a notebook. It's bad luck. Seriously.
- I say seriously a lot. And by a lot, I seriously mean a lot. Seriously.
- I refer to everything as creepy. Even if it's not. That's creepy.
- I think washing pants after every wear is such a waste of time and water and laundry detergent. So, I don't. Ew, gross, I know. Shhhh.
- I love trees. Not only are they green, my favourite colour, they keep me breathing. What could be more pleasant than that? Oh, and they're easy to draw.
- I prefer the English spelling of words, you know: colour, favourite, grey... so on.
- I am borderline obsessed with Bob Dylan.
- I know every single line to The Incredibles, Monsters Inc., and Mean Girls.
- This list could go on and on, but I am bored already too, sooooo MOVING ON.
As you should be well aware, this blog is entitled 'An Awkward Self- Existence'. I believe I should specify what I mean by this before
I write anymore blog posts, for readers sake of course. By awkward, I do not mean socially awkward. I'm really not. I am completely capable of completing everyday tasks and talking to strangers and such without awkwardness. By awkward, I am referring to those little occurrences that I seriously think could ONLY happen to me. That there is no possible way for these things or these thoughts to run through anyone else's mind. I am writing this blog for my benefit really, in hopes that someone is reading it and saying to themselves, 'WOW, I thought I was the only one...' Any if you're not relating to the subject being discussed in any way shape or form, then I hope you just feel plain awkward, mister.
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