If you’re happy with wrinkles and you have them, clap your hands….. clap…clap… WHAAATEVER!! I like wrinkles as much as I liked my 9th grade English teacher. She would read my papers aloud, correcting openly as she read. Suck it, lady! She was just upset because donning 80’s flybacks in ‘92 with yellow hair/grey roots lead me to believe she was much older. At 14, I didn’t have mouth control, so when her 7 year old daughter visited class, I very politely said, “You have such a cute granddaughter.”  She corrected me immediately then hated and tortured me for the rest of the year. I didn’t know how I felt about wrinkles at 14, but I do now… and with experience, I realized my loathe for her and facial lines were the same.  I have a problem with harboring feelings…..

ANYWHO..to my point… At 25, we all start freaking out about age. At 33, I like it’s ridiculous that someone at the age of 25 doesn’t realize how young they are, then again, my girlfriends at 43 keep telling me I don’t realize how young I am… and so on…. and so on. Regardless of the decade  inhabited, we have an embarrassing story with age involved.  Whether someone got our age terribly wrong, we wore something too old or too young or we wet our pants from sneezing … most of us have a funny, embarrassing story attributed to age.

Tell us your story! I’ll sweeten the deal. With the help of  Stephanie Dolgoff, blogger and author of  “My Formerly Hot Life,”  I’m able to offer THREE lucky winners a copy of her book! It launches on August 17th which means.. the winners will be lucky owners of the book as it hits book stores!

Here’s the deal:

1) Submit your story here by August 18th or email your story to lauren@girlyourenotalone.com.  In the “title” or “subject” line please put “Contest - INSERT YOUR STORY TITLE.” **

2)Please keep entries to 700 words max!

3) Please make sure to add your full name, email address and home address at the end of your story to ensure winners receive their books!

4) Winners will be announced Sunday, August 22nd!

5) Share with as many of your friends as possible! Encourage anyone you know with a perplexing age story to SUBMIT! Regardless if your submission makes the Top Three, it is likely to be used for future posts and related GYNA publications.

6) What are you waiting for? Pour yourself a little vino, make a litte ice cream sandwich and start writing your experience! Get it in by August 18th! Don’t worry about grammer/misspellings! It’s the content we care about!

** By sending entry via email, you submit your story to girlyourenotalone.com, and it is understood that your story may be posted on girlyourenotalone.com or any future GYNA publication with no monetary compensation.

Oh…. my… lordy. I read this story from a fellow GYNA Gal, Holly, and busted my button laughing… well, the Big Mac for lunch could have helped with that bursting button…. but let’s just fault laughter by request from my gut and ass. This little story brought me back to the days when I first moved to Chicago and I was so poor, I had to cut and color my own hair. When I finally had the money to go to a professional, she blasted me for two hours about how my last stylist was so bad, they shouldn’t have a job. I kept saying .” I know, she was awful, that’s why I came to you.” That statement was not a lie…. the fact I went to a professional was, but, whatever, I didn’t want to do hair anyway!!

For those of you, and I know there are a ton of you out there, including my mom AND my sister, that have tried to cut your child’s hair, you will love Holly’s little hiccup:

I was recently laid off because of the down economy. My husband and I have been cutting costs in every area possible trying to soften the blow of my salary loss. When I realized my four year-old needed a  haircut, I thought, how hard could it be, I’ll do it myself and save $20. It was a disaster. I kept trying to even out his bangs and I ended up cutting them to his scalp!! He has a huge forward like my husband so he looked like Herman Munster, but with much shorter bangs!! I thought about shaving it, but once I spiked his hair, I THOUGHT it looked okay, until, I dropped him off at preschool and his teacher asked if he had gotten hold of my scissors and cut it himself. I was so embarrassed, I just said, “yes.” 

About a week later, my son brought home a gift certificate to a local salon. I called his teacher to ask where it came from, she said Zach (my son) had told one of the mom’s that we didn’t have money for a haircut so I had to do it myself  and messed up his hair.  The mom felt so bad, she went and got a gift certificate so he could get a good haircut!!! I was mortified, especially because I had let the teacher believe my son had done it and I was caught in a lie! I took my son to my hairdresser, had his head shaved and returned the gift certificate with a “thank you,” and an explanation. If I have to give up cable, I will never skip on a haircut for my kids again!

Common American thinking of anything vanilla is something plain, classic, sweet and innocent. All the women in my family add vanilla to ANYTHING to make a food more sweet and comforting. The southern lady in the video below bitched slapped the purity right out of vanilla when she got down and dirty with some vanilla extract.  I had no idea there was such a high alcohol content in the flavor solution! No wonder my mom always said, “Just a drop… that’s all you need,” when I added it to batter. She knew I would’ve made a drunken pancake baby between vanilla extract and Bisquick if I had known… hmmmm…. a thought…

After drinking two bottles, it landed this woman on a street curb and in the slammer. Lindsay Lohan, if you’re reading this, stay away from the extract, you crazy little jail monkey.  Girl, you’re not alone if you’ve received a DUI from a substance your sweet Grandma uses to make cupcakes.

these kind of pics are not hard to get off the internet...

 

I’ve heard oodles and oodles of stories where someone sent a text message or email from their phone and sent it to the wrong person. Whether it was the next name down or a subliminal selection, it’s not uncommon to do a quick press of “send” then freak out while trying to channel a technical genius to somehow retrieve the message. I’ve done it MANY times. I’ve sent a flirt email that was meant for one guy to an entire distribution list. The embarrassing part was that I’m the most terrible flirt on the face of any existing planet, which was broadcasted to about 25 people on the list. I actually digress to an insecure tween when I flirt by saying things like “I’m completely open right now… just waiting for someone to ask me to do something…. what are you doing?” or “bad ass” or “if I were an animal I’d want to a bunny rabbit,”  or “I was the captain of my dance team… in 1995.”

You’re about to read Kimberly’s story below. This instance is a little heavier than just sending a flirt email to the wrong person.  Poor girl was just trying to bring back a little zing to her marriage… I’m sure she did… just not her marriage. Girl, you’re not alone if you accidentally send a nude photo to your neighbor’s husband.

My husband and I had been going to couple’s counseling. In our last session, our counselor told me I needed to make an extra effort to be spontaneous when it came to our love life. One week, my husband went out of town and I thought I would take that opportunity to be spontaneous. I had recently hired a personal trainer and was feeling great physically so I decided to take a little picture on my phone and send it to my husband. I don’t want to be graphic, but the picture did not include clothing. I took a picture, reviewed it, wrote a sexy message, then selected his name from my address book and pressed “send.” In the midst of pressing the send button, I realized something. I wasn’t sending the nude picture to my husband Dan, I was sending it to my neighbor Dan. In my state of horror, I pressed every button imaginable to cancel the picture and even ripped out the battery hoping to kill the message. It didn’t. I immediately called my husband to tell him what happened and before I could get off the phone, Dan’s wife called. I didn’t give her the chance to speak.  I blurted the story and offered to conference in my husband to confirm my story. I even told her our marriage issues and how I was taking our counselor’s advice. Worse, I told her how long it had been since we had sex. I kept talking nonstop to soften the issue. I’d never been so petrified in my life. The story was eventually straightened out, but it was still awkward at the end of the call.

After a few weeks of dodging our neighbors, my husband invited them over for dinner. It was so uncomfortable at first with ridiculous small talk. My husband finally proposed a toast to break the ice, “Here’s to everyone at this table seeing a hot naked picture of my wife ……except me.”  We all laughed and made jokes, but I’ll never take another nude picture again to save my life… or my marriage.

Stephanie Dolgoff, blogger and author of  “My Formerly Hot Life,”  posted my story on her blog last Friday about a business associate that guessed my age a WHOLE YEAR older than I am. C’mon, ladies, we all know, especially when we get into our 30’s and older, that we want to look younger. I was convinced that I looked 27. Hell, when I’m glossed up rocki’ a cute headband, I would swear up and down I should be on “Gossip Girl.” That is, until this unnamed associate had me sprinting to the bathroom mirror and realizing all the sun damage on my forehead. At the end of my 15 minute session of finding every flaw on my face, I was convinced I was Courtney Love’s twin when she emerged from rehab last year.  

Anywho… the moral of this story is… when you’re over the age of 27, don’t let anyone guess your age.  Click here to read the rest of the story!