Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Tova's Totally Awkward Tuesdays

This week, for the umpteenth time, I was quite sure that I had completely exhausted my repertoire of really awkward stories. Then, as I was showering, I remembered this one (if I never bathed, I think I'd have a lot less time to think of blog ideas).

You all know the drill: I share an awkward story, you share an awkward story, you link below, and we each feel glad that we're not the most awkward person on the planet.

I'm not sure if I ever mentioned this to you guys before, but Mr. Darling and I lived apart for the first few months we were married. It was awful, and I would never recommend it to anyone else. But see, thanks to Mr. Darling's medical school schedule, there was basically a two-week period during which we could get married. That two-week period took place several months before we could actually live in the same city, as Mr. Darling's medical school was two hours away from my job. See, the first two years of medical school are spent in classrooms, listening to lectures, while the next two years are spent doing rotations - med students spend four weeks at a time in various hospitals and clinics learning about different specialities. Since I already had a job in the city where Mr. Darling was planning to do most of his rotations, it didn't make sense for me to quit and move in with him, only to have to return to find a new job a few months later. So, we lived apart, and as I mentioned before, it was no fun at all.

I'd drive two hours to see Mr. Darling almost every weekend, and I'd stay with him in the house he was renting. Oh, and I should probably mention that he shared this house with two other guys who were also med students. As you might imagine, this arrangement meant that we sometimes had less privacy than newlyweds like to have. Mr. Darling's room was on the second floor of the house, while the other two guys had rooms on the first floor, so it was a little private, but definitely not as much as we liked, and it was sometimes difficult to find an opportunity to engage in certain marital activities...

On one particular Saturday, we found ourselves blissfully alone in the house. Obviously, we took this opportunity to engage in... marital relations. (Haha! That's what my grandma used to call it. I mean, maybe she still does, but the topic doesn't come up all that often when I'm talking to my grandma...) Anyway, we were in the midst of relating, when one of Mr. Darling's roommates came home. But since Mr. Darling had the second floor all to himself, we didn't figure it would be a problem, so we decided to just keep the noise down. This plan seemed to work for about two minutes, when suddenly there was a knock on the bedroom door.

Roommate: "Mr. D? Tova? Are you guys in there?"
Us: "Yes."
Roommate: "Are you guys dressed?"
Me: "... um... no."
Roommate: "Haha! Very funny! Seriously though, can I come in? I want to tell you what just happened." (Jiggles doorknob, which luckily had been locked by Mr. Darling.)
Mr. Darling: "No! We're not joking! Go away!"
Roommate: "You're really not dressed?"
Us: "No! Go away!"
Roommate: "Ok, I'll just tell you from out here..."

Then, through the locked door, Mr. Darling's roommate proceeded to tell us this long story about how he hurt his foot while biking, while we just laid there, giggling and quietly speculating as to what the chances were of him hearing us if we started relating again with him right outside the door (we decided they were too high to risk it).

At least this moment reinforced the importance of locking our bedroom door, so hopefully we won't traumatize our future children during a similar incident sometime in the future.

Now it's your turn! Share an awkward story on your blog, then link below!

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Anyone have a shack I can live in?

In preparation for our big move, I've been emailing people in our future city about houses and apartments that are listed for rent on Craigslist. I emailed one guy asking for pictures of the inside and outside of a house. Here's the response I got today:

"I don't have photographs that I can e-mail to you. You can see the exterior and neighborhood by clicking on on Google earth button. The house is clean.

The bigger problem is that the house is available now and you do not need a house until June 2009.

There are not many nice clean houses for rent in (name of city) . (City) has a high owner occupancy rate and most rental houses are junk or in bad neighborhoods."

Ok, A - I already had looked on Google, and there is a gigantic freaking tree in front of the house, so you can't see anything, and B - Thanks so much; it is extremely helpful to say, "There are not many nice houses in this city," if you don't have anything to offer me. Thanks. I think this guy's just a jerk, and I don't want him as my landlord anyway.

Also, it's a bit fishy that the only clean rental house in the entire city has no pictures of it, yet all of the "junk" houses have pictures. Apparently, I'm just supposed to take his word for it. He's probably hoping I'll be like, "Oh no! I better put a deposit on this house, sight unseen, so that I don't risk missing out on the only clean house in the entire city!"

I'm tempted to send him the following email:

"Dear Sir,
Well, I guess I'll just have to live in a hovel, then. Thanks for condemning me to a life of squalor.
Love, Tova

PS - If you happen to buy any new appliances for your fabulously clean house, could you please save the boxes for me so that I can construct a cardboard shanty to live in?"

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Tova's Totally Awkward Tuesday

It's Totally Awkward Tuesday! I'll share my awkward story, you'll share yours, and then we'll all have a good laugh!

About two months before my wedding, I was shopping at Target when I walked past a guy who looked vaguely familiar. Apparently I was familiar to him, too, because he did a double-take and then stopped walking and gave me a strange look. I followed suit, and we stood there, each trying to figure out who the other was, until he finally said, "You look really familiar, do I know you?" I responded with, "I think so... I'm not sure from where, but you look familiar to me, too." He suggested a few places we might have met, none of which were familiar to me, so I offered the following suggestion: "I used to work at (name of grocery store)."

"Oh, yeah!" he said. "I gave you my phone number when you were working, and you never called me!"

...

Awkward!

My face turned bright red, I offered some sort of apology, he made uncomfortable conversation for a few minutes ("didn't you used to wear your hair differently?"), I held up my left hand to show that I was engaged, and then I rapidly exited Target.

And that, my friends, is why you shouldn't just arbitrarily hand out your phone number to a girl working at the grocery store and then leave before she has a chance to tell you that she's dating the man of her dreams.

Now it's your turn! Revel in your own awkwardness on your blog, then link below!
Tova's Totally Awkward Tuesdays Participants
1. Ryan Ashley Scott
2. Sassy Britches
3. The Gnu
4. INfertile Myrtle
5. Raf
6. Weekly Jules
7. Former Fat Chick- flasher
8. LegalMist
9. Jane Gaston
10. Curly Muse

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Monday, March 23, 2009

Let's talk about books, baby!

It's official: I've started packing for our move in June! I'm so excited to move to our new city and so proud of Mr. Darling! Of course, there are some things I'm really going to miss: my family, my friends, and the most amazing used bookstore I've ever set foot into! Instead of being devastated about the toll that moving away from this bookstore could take on my reading addiction (books are my cocaine), I decided to stock up on amazing books while I still live near a great discount bookstore (otherwise, I'd be spending thousands of dollars to feed my habit).

I know that library cards are free and that I could just borrow books, but there are two problems with that. For one thing, if I love a book, I must own it. Also, I'm horribly disorganized, and when I used to borrow books from my college library, I always owed fines, because they were ALWAYS late. There will be other bookstores, of course, but at my current store, I typically don't spend more than $2 a book. I've purchased classics from this store for less than a quarter apiece.

My current system is that I have a big bookshelf in Mr. Darling's office that contains all the books I've read but can't bear to part with, and a smaller bookshelf by our bed that contains all the books I've purchased but haven't yet read (there are at least 30 books there right now). I go to the bookstore a few times a month, buy all the books I can carry, and then put them on my unread shelf. Before I've read even half of them, I go back and buy more. It's a sickness. So my plan is that, before we move, I will have grown my "unread" library until it's large enough that it can sustain me between visits home to go book shopping (and, of course, visit my parents).

That's where you come in: I need book suggestions! As a writing major, I read most of the "classics" in college (or I own them and plan to read them eventually.) I've read a lot of the books on all of the "Top 100 Novels of All Time" lists, and I'm slowly working my way through the rest of them. So instead, tell me about a book that you LOVE, but that never got enough publicity to be famous. What book couldn't you put down that a lot of people might never have heard of?

For example, I am forever recommending the book Devil in the Details: Scenes from an Obsessive Girlhood by Jennifer Traig to everyone I know. It's the completely hilarious true story of the author as she was growing up with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Seriously, you must read it. I've read it at least ten times, and I love it every single time. So what are your favorite books? Let me know so that I can stock up for my move!

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Diamonds are a blogger's best friend

So, Scary Mommy is hosting a contest where she's giving away some DIAMOND EARRINGS! No, seriously!! I plan to win them (Mr. Darling just got his first choice for his residency, so I'm counting on some of that good fortune rubbing off on me), but you're all welcome to enter, too.Just click on the picture (or, in case I did it wrong, her blog name above), and you can enter to win the earrings! Woo hoo! All you have to do is subscribe to her blog feed. (Feedburner hates her and got rid of all of her subscribers, just for fun.)

And of course, I'll be blogging more about my own adventures later, but somehow, free diamond earrings seemed a lot more interesting at the moment!

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Match Day

Alright, ladies and gentlemen... it's the moment of truth.

Today is Match Day, the day when medical students across the country find out where they'll be doing their residencies. The results are in, and....

MR. DARLING GOT HIS NUMBER ONE CHOICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!

I am SOOOO proud of my husband!!! We'll be moving in June, and Mr. Darling will start his residency on July 1 at the program he has been wanting to go to ever since he did a rotation there! Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!!!!!

Lift your glasses and join me in toasting my amazing, spectacular, phenomenal, brilliant husband, the future Dr. Darling!!!!!!!!

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Post number 99

Ever since somewhere around blog post number 43 on Secret Life of Tova Darling, I've been trying to figure out what I was going to do for the all-important 100th post. Would I host a contest? Ask for 100 comments? Compose a list of 100 reasons I love to blog? Coerce you all into clicking on my AdSense ads 100 times? Demand that you all send me $100? Write a well-researched and thought-provoking essay on the impact of blogging in modern culture? (Ok, let's be honest, there's no chance I would've done that last one.) In true Tova fashion, I had failed to make up my mind until the beginning of this week. That's when I realized that my 100th post was going to fall during Match Week, and that it would likely occur on Match Day - the day that my amazing husband, Mr. Darling, will see how his four years of studying and hard work in medical school have paid off.

Tomorrow is Match Day, and Mr. Darling will find out where he will be doing his medical residency. This also means that we will find out where we'll be spending the next three to five years of our lives and that I will know where I'll be living when I write the majority of my next hundred posts (and the hundred after that, and the hundred after that...)

Because I'm anonymous (and because some of the cities on Mr. Darling's rank order list only have one major teaching hospital, which means you'd all know exactly where Mr. Darling worked, and my fans might storm the hospital begging Mr. Darling to get them my autograph), I won't be telling you where Mr. D matches, per se, but I will tell you which one of the programs on this list he matched to. I am hoping that he matched with his number one choice because, gosh darn it, he deserves it. (The decision is already final, but in case prayers work retroactively, say a few on his behalf if you don't mind!)

So tomorrow, for my one hundredth post as Tova Darling, I'm inviting you all to celebrate Match Day with me! Buy some champagne (mine's already chilling in the fridge) and join me in toasting the future Dr. Darling! Tomorrow, Mr. Darling will know whether or not he got his first choice of residencies; tomorrow, I'll know whether or not I'll be packing up and moving to a brand new place for the first time in over 20 years; tomorrow, I'll know where I'll live after I stop being the wife of a medical student and start being the wife of a doctor; and tomorrow, you'll know too.

Thanks for sharing in this adventure with me, friends, and thank you for reading my posts! I'll talk to you again (for the 100th time) tomorrow!

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Tova's Totally Awkward Tuesdays

(I scheduled this post to go at 12:01 AM this morning, and it didn't work. Blame blogger.)

It's the time of the week again, ladies and gents! Let's all be awkward together! Basically, the rules are that you read my awkward story, you comment on how you're amazed that I am so consistently awkward, you write your own story on your own blog, you leave a link to that blog post below, and then we all read it and feel glad that we're not alone in our awkwardness.

Throughout high school and college, I worked at a grocery store. It was awful, often mind-numbingly boring, and full of tons of awkward moments. Here's one of them:

At the grocery store, we used to have daily specials that were announced over the loudspeaker. It was decided on like, the second day that we ever had a special, that I had a "good loudspeaker voice," so they picked me to be the one to make all of the sale announcements. Which means that, for five years, my most meaningful and heartwarming speeches sounded like this - "Attention, shoppers! For the next fifteen minutes only (this was a lie, we repeated the specials every hour, all day long), we will be having a sale on oatmeal - buy two boxes and save one dollar! Hurry over to aisle three to take advantage of these great savings! And as always, thank you for shopping with us!"

Nobody ever bought the specials. They were never things you'd actually need or want, and the deals were never that great. It was always like "Buy 500 styrofoam plates, get 500 for half price," and who really needs 1,000 styrofoam plates for 25% off? Occasionally (this is true), some creepy man would come over, and I'd say in my cheeriest customer service voice, "Do you need 1,000 styrofoam plates?" and the creepy man would say something like, "No, I just wanted to see who that sexy voice on the loudspeaker belonged to," and then I'd wonder if perhaps working for a 1-900 number would be less humiliating than the grocery store. But I digress...

So, one day, the special was on an artificial sweetener that I won't name in case they read my blog and try to sue me. I made my little announcement and then stood by a cart full of sweetener, looking like a moron and waiting for the 15 minutes to be up so I could go back to straightening the deodorant aisle. Finally, an elderly gentleman approached me, and I cheerfully asked if he'd like to buy some artificial sweetener, to which he replied, "That sweetener killed my wife."

I said something meaningful and comforting, like, "oh, ummm.... I'm so sorry. Um, I guess you won't be wanting any..." Then he proceeded to tell me that his wife had put artificial sweetener in her coffee every day of her life, and then she died of cancer three years ago, and the doctors had said that, no, it probably wasn't the fault of the sweetener, but he (the elderly gentleman) was quite convinced that it was the fault of the sweetener, and nobody should ever buy it, because it would kill them. His speech ended with something along the lines of, "so you shouldn't be selling it unless you want to kill people." I very definitely did not want to kill people, but I also did not want to lose my job, and the manager had distinctly told me that I had to sell sweetener. So for the next 12 minutes, at three minute intervals, I made cheerful speeches about sweetener over the store loudspeaker while this man glared at me like I was selling cocaine to pre-school children. It was quite terrible, and by the end of the sale, I was starting to wonder if perhaps I was a horrible person for selling artificial sweetener to unsuspecting customers. Luckily, he had apparently left the store before I made my next sweetener announcement 45 minutes later. For the record, I think I sold one box all day, so at least I can't be held responsible for killing anyone.

So, what's your awkward story? Please share it!
Tova's Totally Awkward Tuesdays Participants
1. From KS to PA
2. Kim
3. Ryan Ashley Scott
4. LegalMist
5. E
6. Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds

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Monday, March 16, 2009

"Congratulations! You have matched."

That was the body of the email that Mr. Darling received today at 12 noon! Match Day isn't until this Thursday, but the Monday before Match Day, all of the residency applicants receive an email telling them if (but not where) they matched. If you don't match, you have to take part in what is appropriately named the "Scramble." (As in, you're scrambling to find a program with open slots to accept you - something which you may or may not accomplish.) (In case you're a first timer here, my husband, Mr. Darling, is a fourth-year medical student and will be a doctor in just a few short months!)

Anyway, Mr. Darling matched at one of the programs he ranked, so he won't have to scramble, and we'll find out where in just three days! It's not at all surprising that he matched (because he's freaking amazing), but it is reassuring to know. I AM SO PROUD OF MY HUSBAND!!!!!!!!!

If you're interested, the National Resident Matching Program has a good (but long) explanation of how the medical residency matching program works here. If you're only a little interested, you can just read my explanation here.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

This place is going to fall apart

Seriously, if I end up moving out of the city (we'll know for sure in 7 days! Yikes!) and leaving my job, I have no idea how my current coworkers are going to cope. It's nice to be needed, I suppose, even if sometimes I'm needed for reasons that are completely trivial and stupid. For example:

- The CEO just left a business card on my desk while I was at lunch with a post-it note attached. The post-it explained that he wanted the information entered into our database. In half the time he took to write the note, he could've typed the name into our easy-to-use, web-based database and discovered that this person has been in our database for over a year.

- I am the only person in our office that can use the postage meter. No, really. The only one. Never mind the fact that we all attended the exact same half-hour presentation on how to use the postage meter, never mind that there's a user's manual attached to the postage meter - I am the only person capable of operating it. Anytime anyone goes to use it, they inevitably stand in front of it in confusion for fifteen minutes and then yell, "Tova!! Can you come show me how to use the postage meter??" It is utterly mind-boggling to me. I don't even mind helping, necessarily. I just can't figure out why I'm the only one who knows how to use it.

- I am superb at unjamming the copy machine.

Ah, it's nice to be such a valuable member of this team. Of course, I could've skipped college and possessed this specialized skill set without having any student loans to pay back, but that's ok. If we move and I start looking for a new job, you'd better believe that these amazing skills will be listed on my resume.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

I tweet, therefore I am.

I am now on Twitter!

Actually, I've been on Twitter for a while, I've just never tweeted... twittered... tweetered... whatever until yesterday. But now I'm "with it" and have officially launched my Twitter feed (obviously, I don't yet know the lingo), so you can all follow me by clicking on the Twitter box to the left (under my necklaces). Hurrah!

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Tova's Totally Awkward Tuesdays

Hopefully, this shows up, as I've been having weird problems with Blogger. Is my computer possessed? Am I crazy? Stay tuned to find out!

Anyway, today is Tuesday, which means that it's time for us all to take a few moments to revel in our own awkwardness. I share an awkward story on my blog, then you share an awkward story on your blog, then you link below and indulge in the awkwardness of all of the other fabulous bloggers who have participated.

As everybody knows, meeting the family of your significant other is generally a very awkward experience. (For example, when I first met the good ex's extended family, they asked me whether I folded or bunched my toilet paper when I wiped. True story.) The first time I met Mr. Darling's family was no exception to this awkward rule.

When Mr. Darling and I first started dating, we lived 1,000 miles apart, so I didn't meet his family until we'd been dating for several months. The summer after we started dating, I bought a plane ticket and flew up to spend a week with Mr. Darling and his family. Their annual picnic/family get-together was going to be held while I was there, so I was going to meet everyone all at once. Needless to say, I was a little nervous.

Early in our relationship, one thing about me that amazed Mr. Darling was my eating ability. I can eat a lot. Over the course of the day/week, my total calorie consumption balances out to be pretty normal, but if I'm faced with a type of food that I really like, I can pack it away faster than someone who is twice my size. I'm 5'6" and my weight hovers around 120, but even though Mr. Darling has five inches and about 60 pounds on me, I've been known to eat double what he eats if we're having a meal that I really like. I have a pretty high metabolism, apparently, and so when we were dating, Mr. D was fascinated by the fact that I could out-eat him and not gain a pound. (He's less fascinated and more concerned by it ever since we found out that I have high cholesterol, so now he encourages me to eat healthy food and only eat junk in moderation.)

So, we were at this family gathering where I was meeting everyone - parents, cousins, grandparents, aunts and uncles - all at once, and I was already feeling a little nervous and awkward. We were all sitting around a large table, and Mr. Darling's aunt was serving the food, and after she put some on my plate, she asked me if it was enough or if I'd like some more. Before I could say anything, Mr. Darling spoke up and said, "Oh, give her more. Tova eats a ton. She eats more than I do! Seriously, you should see her eat!"

...

In Mr. Darling's defense, I know that he did not say it to intentionally embarrass me, but I was quite embarrassed just the same. There were quite a few joking comments made by his relatives about me eating, and everyone kept offering me seconds of everything. Having just been outed as a big eater to all of these strangers, I was too embarrassed to take seconds of anything, and I ate as little as possible without seeming rude or anorexic. Hopefully, they've all forgotten that the first time they met me, they learned that I was a glutton. I, on the other hand, will never be able to forget it.

So what's your awkward story? Share it on your blog, then link below! Or, if my blog isn't working, just think your awkward story to yourself and then giggle quietly. Either way.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Where did I go?

Um, it would appear that none of my posts are visible on my blog any longer. So, you know... that's exciting. Can anyone else see them? Are they invisible to you just like they are to me? What the crap is going on here?

...

And now I can see them. False alarm? Every time I try to go to the Blogger homepage, it tries to download something onto my computer. Is this happening to anyone else? Do I have a virus? Help!!

If my computer decides it doesn't hate me, tomorrow will be Totally Awkward Tuesday, so get your stories ready! If I'm still having issues, just rest assured that I'm still awkward as ever, with or without the post.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Random things Tova wonders about

Why is there no gender-neutral singular or plural term for "aunts and uncles" and "nieces and nephews?"

If you want to refer to someone's mom or their dad, without specifying one or the other, you say "parent." If you want to refer collectively to a mom and a dad or to a group consisting of some moms and some dads, you say "parents."

Grandma/Grandpa = Grandparent(s)
Sister/brother = sibling(s)
Son/daughter = child(ren)
Grandson/granddaughter = grandchild(ren)
Husband/wife = spouse(s)

But there is no gender-neutral word to describe aunts and uncles and nieces and nephews. So, if you're spending the holidays with various family members, and you're describing who will be there, you would have to say "I'll be spending time with my grandparents, my siblings, my children, my parents, my aunts and my uncles, and my nieces and my nephews," because there's no word to describe that relationship that doesn't specify gender. Why not? This has always puzzled me.

Also, why does the word "cousin" have the opposite problem? Every other familial relationship has one word for if that relative is a female and another for if the relative is a male, but "cousin" is purely gender neutral.

And yes, I'm aware that these are weird things to wonder about, but I wonder anyway...

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Where do babies come from?

Within the past year or so, two married couples that Mr. D and I know have had "surprise" pregnancies. And when I say "surprise," I mean "not surprising at all if you understand the basic concept of how babies are made."

We asked both of these couples (who claimed that they were "not ready for kids" when they discovered they were pregnant) what kind of birth control they were using (because, you know, if they both got pregnant while they were using the same kind of birth control I use, I was totally going to switch), and they both answered, "None."

Umm... remember when you were in fifth grade and you had to go into the lunch room with all of the other girls and watch a video about "your changing body," and you all giggled when they explained where babies come from? And when you were in seventh grade health class and you had to do an entire unit on puberty and sex and baby-making and then they made you watch that "Miracle of Life" movie where there's a baby being born, and your health teacher stood in front of the classroom door even after the bell rang so that no one could leave until they'd witnessed the horror/miracle of childbirth? And then in high school health class when they made you watch a video that taught you how to put a condom on a banana? And when you went to the gynecologist and they talked to you about birth control? And then on literally thousands of movies and television shows where someone got pregnant as a direct result of having sex? How exactly, in the year 2009, does someone over 25 manage to get pregnant without using any type of birth control and then consider it to be a "surprise"???? The word you're looking for there is not "surprise," it's "inevitable." I mean, come on now! I know that teenagers sometimes accidentally get pregnant, but how can a mature, responsible adult who is freaking married consider getting pregnant a "surprise" if they're not using any form of birth control at all?

The other thing that ticked me off is that the father of one of the "surprise" babies posted on his blog that if he'd "known how hard it was to take care of an infant," he would've "been more careful."

Ok, A - Probably not something you want to share on a public blog being read by everyone you know, because now every time I see him with his baby, I think "Man, that guy is so mad he has a baby," B - You're in your late twenties, and you had no idea that having a baby would be hard?? You might want to consider the fact that you could be stupid. And C - So you weren't trying to prevent pregnancy in any way at all, and only after impregnating someone and actually becoming a father does it occur to you that, "hey, maybe birth control might've been a good idea"?? People can be so dumb!

I have no clever, insightful, or thought-provoking ending for this post, so I'm just going to stop and allow you all to ponder the obvious lack of foresight that some people exhibit.

(Oh, and just so no one leaves me hate messages - I'm aware that in some religions and denominations, birth control is frowned upon or considered a sin. Mine's not one of those, but I respect people who hold those beliefs. However, the people I'm talking about here don't belong to those religions or denominations, and have no moral or spiritual qualms about using birth control. In fact, both couples have decided to use birth control after the first "surprise." They just couldn't be bothered before, apparently.)

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Tova's Totally Awkward Tuesday

And now it's time for the part of the show where Tova shares an awkward story, and then you all share awkward stories, and then we all laugh at one another.

I didn't get my driver's license until I was 21. The delay was due in large part to the fact that A- My parents told me I'd have to pay for my own car insurance once I got my license, B - I typically had a boyfriend to drive me where I needed to go, and C - I'm just plain lazy. I might've held off on getting my license for even longer, except that, as luck would have it, I met Mr. Darling when I was visiting some friends in another state. After we met, we started talking by email and then by phone, and about 5 months after we met, Mr. D bought a ticket to fly out and see me.

The problem, of course, was that I had no driver's license, and I knew that it would be the height of humiliation if my mommy had to pick him up at the airport because I couldn't drive. Also, I didn't want to tell him that I didn't have my license because, although he's only two years older than me, he was the most "grown-up" of any guy I'd ever dated, and I didn't want him to think that I was some irresponsible child. So, I decided to hurry up and get my license, and with just a few weeks to spare until Mr. D's arrival, I went to the DMV to take my driving test.

The test went reasonably well, and I even managed not to screw up the parallel parking portion (even though to this day, I can't parallel park to save my life.) When the test was over, I pulled back into the parking lot, and the driving instructor said "Pull in next to that red truck." And of course, I took that to mean, "Park next to that red minivan on the other side of the lot." So I'm driving fairly quickly to get to the red minivan, when I suddenly see the red truck I'm supposed to be parking next to. Naturally, I whipped the steering wheel to the left without bothering to slow down, and the car began hurtling toward the side of the red truck. The driving instructor screamed, "Stop!!!" and I slammed on the brakes with inches to spare.

The driving instructor looked completely in shock at my lack of driving abilities when he asked me,"Do you realize that if I hadn't yelled, you would've hit that truck?" To which I replied, "Um, sorry about that." He started writing something on his clipboard while I sat there wondering how Mr. D was going to react when I showed up in the back seat of my parents' car to pick him up at the airport. Finally, the instructor looked at me, rolled his eyes, and said "Just go inside and get your picture taken for your license."

And so I got my license, just barely. My theory is that the instructor figured if I wasn't a good driver by age 21, I never would be. He did, however, point at me while laughing with the other instructors. It was awkward, but decidedly less awkward than having my mom pick up Mr. D from the airport would've been. As a side note, I didn't tell Mr. D that I'd only had my license for a few weeks until we'd been dating for about three months. Which means that when I almost hit a truck and then the median after picking him up, he was somewhat surprised at what a bad driver I was.

So what's your awkward moment? Share it on your blog, then link below!
In my opinion, we don't devote nearly enough scientific research to finding a cure for jerks. ~ Calvin & Hobbes