#3

The third story that has been nominated for "Most Embarrassing Moment in Becca's Life" happened in the same year as the Bertha barrel roll incident of the '97-'98 school year.


The fourth grade was a rough time for me.


Now, for those of you who don't know me personally, I have extremely curly hair.  I have the type of curls that people pay insane amounts of money to get. ON PURPOSE. Think of that perm your mother forced you to get in middle school right before picture day, thinking that it would look amazing, when in reality it looked like a poodle stuck its paw in an electrical outlet and got shocked, and then died.  On top of your head.  That's the type of hair I have. 


I promise, there was a reason I brought this up.  I also needed to make sure you all have the proper image in your head before I begin.


This story is about the first and only time I succumbed to peer pressure.


My friend decided she wanted to have a slumber party with a few of the girls in my grade.  This was the first real slumber party I had ever been to, and I mean one with more than just two of us.  I was excited, yet nervous.  You see, there was a reason I never did sleepovers.  I am a very violent sleeper and was incredibly concerned with what might happen were I to be left in a room full of sleeping people without my parents present.  I am still very self-conscious about this, because I once almost killed my sister, Rachel.  If my dad didn't hear her gasping for air, I would be writing this on the walls of my prison cell using my own blood for ink. True story.


Anyway, it was the end of school on a Friday, we all gathered at the front of the school so we could walk to my friend's house and get girls night going.  I was told there was going to be pizza when we got there, so I basically ran the entire way, and left everyone else in my dust.  You see, my family is the size of a small army.  I was used/am used to having to fight my siblings for food, and rarely did I come out on top.  Not this time.  This time, I was going to be in a house with 7 girls that didn't know what survival was.  This was it, this was my time to shine.


I, of course, claimed roughly 2 large pizzas for myself and plopped myself in a corner of her bedroom and didn't move for hours.  Mostly because I was just as stuffed as the crust on my pizza, but also because I had really only come for the free food.


The slumber party consisted of your typical "girly" activities: we had a dance party, watched some Disney movies, played "Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board" to see if any of us had any magical powers, and gave each other make overs.


That last event is the one that haunts my nights.  My friend, who we will call Lucinda, because I can't really remember whose goddamn house it was, brought out all sorts of make up and hair products and accessories.  Everyone squealed with excitement.  I, however, let out more of a muffled groan, because I had just eaten my weight in dough and cheese, but no one could really tell the difference. Or they really didn't care.


Everyone grabbed their favorite pieces of make up and a mirror and started getting glammed up.  I just stared at the baskets of stuff wondering what I was supposed to do with the items in them.  I was 9.  I had zero interest in things that weren't The Goosebumps books, or The Ninja Turtles.  So I grabbed some blue lipstick and just faked my way through it.


So, there were about 7 other girls at this house, and all of them had pin straight hair.  Naturally, one of my loudmouth friends, who wasn't really my friend because she was a loudmouth, decided she wanted to curl everyone's hair.  Including mine.  Seeing as how I already have curly hair, I said her idea was stupid, because it was.  WHY ARE YOU GOING TO CURL HAIR THAT IS ALREADY CURLY YOU DUMB STRAIGHT-HAIRED IDIOT?!  Looking back, I wish I said this and saved myself some embarrassment, but I didn't. 


After she had gotten through about 3 girl's hair, she looked at me and told me it was my turn.  We continued to fight for about 30 minutes until I caved and let her do it.  Which. Was. Stupid.


Within 20 seconds of her wrapping a fairly large strand tightly around the curling iron, I hear the words "uh-oh."  I panicked.  The mother fucking curling iron was now stuck in my hair and still very much on.  As my scalp was literally being burned off of my skull, I started screaming at her, and one of my other genius friends grabbed a comb and hairbrush thinking that they would somehow brush the curling iron of death out of my hair.  This turned out to be an even worse idea, because they too, got stuck.


I now had a curling iron, a comb, and a hairbrush making a new home on the top of my head, as I was running around like a dog on a leash.  Literally.  The curling iron was still plugged in as I ran across the room, and it stayed plugged in as it yanked me to the ground when I ran out of cord.


I ended up having to call my mom to come get me and to untangle these objects from my hair.  To my mom's credit, she didn't get annoyed or make fun of me once for this, and she saved all of my hair.  I didn't have to go walking around with a singed bald spot for months.  So, thanks for that Liz.


Shortly after this, I stopped being friends with Curling Iron Susie  (not her real name, but she doesn't get the satisfaction of me using her real name after what she did.)    I also didn't go to a slumber party for another 6 years because of this.  Turns out, my totally justified concern about possibly murdering my friends in my sleep wasn't the biggest issue that night.  Who knew?




Becca's Adulthood Survival Tip #7:  Never succumb to peer pressure.  Your friends are usually idiots.  Do whatever you want.  Also, don't be a dick and pressure your friends and make them feel like shit for making their own decisions separate from your influence.  It goes both ways.