Your FairyChatMom has a good deal for you...

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

I’ve been here long enough to feel that most of you are worthy of a one-time good deal from me. If I’m in a good enough mood, I’ll even bestow some favors upon the less-than-worthy, but my benevolence can be fleeting and fickle. Just ask FairyChatDad…

OK, here’s how it will work. You may pick a single event in your past for a do-over. By MY definition, a single event is not “sophomore year”, “my first marriage”, or “1987”. Attempts to submit such events will result in a severe thrashing with the pointy end of the dreaded FairyChatWand ™ and a stern look.

I will grant you a do-over, with the caveat that I choose how it will be done over. All sales final. Void where prohibited. Subject to all local and federal taxes. Not to be taken internally. Keep out of reach of children. No animals will be harmed. All rights reserved. No spitting.

So, step right up. No shoving – plenty of do-overs to go around.

Oh yeah, and I’m not above accepting bribes…

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FairyChatMom,

How kind of you to offer. While not a life changing event, my do over just was one of those times I had to cry “That’s not fair” and I would appreciate your applying some fairness to my do over.

My prefered Do Over would be…

My first car accident when I was driving.

Heading home, friend with me. Evening. Unfamiliar territory.

I see a sign indicating that the left lane would become an entrance ramp for the freeway/direction I wanted.

I signal & switch lanes… no other cars around, but I just do that. I start accelerating for ramp speed.

Road’s are in moderately good condition.

Except for the dead end.

Right in front of me.

Indicated by a 4 x 6 beam across the road just above the car’s bumper height, helpfully lined with stop signs alternating with dead end signs.

I brake, I discover that plows don’t bother with this little piece of road, it’s a deadend after all.

I have time for one word, “Damn”

I hit. Beam fly’s off it’s supports, luckly the supports holding it in place are an “L” supporting it front and bottom.

I steer into the skid.

I counter steer into the resulting skid the other way
repeat…

Car, Dad’s 1980 honda Civic Hatchback, DOA. Fan was where the pistons shoulda been, no idea how I steered, cause the tires were locked in place by the front quarter panel pinning them to the wheels.

I bruised a knee, my passenger bumped her head.

I had to trudge back to a restaraunt to call dad.

As I reached the point in the road with the sign that had led me astray, I noticed, printed under the not so helpful graphic, was another small sign that read “After right turn”

bleh

No Fair! I Wanna Do Over!

-Doug

3

Ah, if only you could. But life just doesn’t work that way.

4

dublos - your tale has touched my heart, for I too had my first accident while driving in an unfamiliar area one evening. I wound up in a ditch with a bump on my head and it cost me $20 for a local to drag my Datsun B210 back to the road… But I digress.

I will use my many and varied powers to remove this from your sad tale:

In your do over you are completely unhurt. In addition, the brain-dead troglodyte who couldn’t manage to post a clear and unambiguous traffic sign is retroactively afflicted with boils, warts, and an endless loop of “It’s a Small World” running thru his head…

5

FairyChatMom, you’re good at this…

My do-over event was in 1972. I was a sophomore in high school, and a very friendly girl was dropping buckets of clues. I, being totally naive, managed to miss every one. She finally figuratively rolled her eyes at innocent little me, and moved on to another guy. Said other guy was known to come to school with big smiles often, starting soon afterward.

FairyChatMom, I humbly ask for a retro-clue… or a chance to earn a big smile… :smiley:

6

Ooooooooh… this could be dangerous, these do-overs…

[Must not come off as a pervert… Must not come off as a pervert…]

Ok. My do-over event occurred in early 1997. Met someone from online for the very first time. Turned out she was drop-dead gorgeous (in fact, a lap dancer). Hm. Spoiled me forever, sadly. But I digress.

She brought a friend. We were in a hotel room after dinner and they started kissing. I was wildly naive, had hardly an ounce of experience, and figured they didn’t want me there. So I left. (!!!)

Found out the next day I was supposed to join them. Hm.

I call do-over! I’m more mature now! :slight_smile:

7

I have 2. I can’t decide which I regret more, so I’ll let you pick.

A few years back, when Scott and I were just starting to get together on our off time to hook up. It was nobody else’s business but our own. I told Emily, and word got out. Our whole relationship was degraded to a cheap fling, and neither of us have ever lived it down. Course, little does anyone else know that we’re STILL hooking up, two years later… :smiley:

Two months ago, I went to Florida for my annual vacation. I had my mom take me to the airport, and I left my car in our parking lot. I had my keys with me out of habit, not that I thought anything would really happen to it anyways. It was just sittin in the lot. While I was gone, my little ister took my mom’s copy of my carkey off her keychain, stole my car while my mom was at work, drove down to Fall River, picked up her best friend, and let him drive. Ten minutes later, they crashed into the woods off the side of interstate. Nobody was hurt, but my car was totalled. And suprisingly, insurance paid, despite the fact that neither of them were on my insurance, or even had a license. I spent a month driving a POS ford escort because my sister was stupid enough to take the car in the first place.

So, which do I get to do-ver?? :slight_smile:

8

Ah, the innocence of youth… Look back to those days and see yourself as you were. See the friendly girl lean close to you. You’re listening intently. She’s barely able to contain herself. She steps back a wee bit, looks you straight in the eye and says, “… and then the Mother Superior said: ‘Ten dollars, same as in town.’”
You both collapse in uncontrolled laughter, and every day thereafter when you passed thru that hallway, you smiled, remembering the moment you shared.
No need to thank me.

9

Maturity isn’t necessarily all it’s cracked up to be, but I’m nothing if not accomodating… and watch how you take that, you pervert… :smiley:

All right, as you walked down the street away from the hotel, you started thinking that maybe it was rude to just leave like that. Not wanting your new friends to think you were a classless dolt, you decided to do something memorable. A short time later, you returned to the hotel room and they let you in, curiously looking thru the bag of goodies you brought. You pulled out whipped cream, chocolate syrup, sticky caramel sauce, and 3 cartons of Ben & Jerry’s. You all proceeded to make ice cream sundaes, and you enjoyed your treat more than any decadent, lurid sexual encounter, because the mark of maturity is enjoying a person for their company, not merely for their flesh.

And that made you the person you are today!

10

Well, this was an easy choice from my point of view, since it would be distinctly uncreative for me to afflict your sister with boils, warts, and an endless loop of “It’s a Small World” etc, etc.

You paused a moment before saying anything to Emily, and instead engaged her in a discussion about betrayed trust, disloyalty, gossip, and this tramp you knew at who screwed anything with a pulse. As it happened, the tramp was Emily’s long-lost twin sister who suffered from amnesia when she was lost in the Sahara during an unsuccessful saari attempt. Emily decided you were a heartless bitch and she wanted nothing to do with you, so you and Scott got to live happily ever after and Emily and her twin had a reunion on the Springer show and fisticuffs ensued.
Wow, can you believe I work without a net??

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You, my dear, are the bomb diggity. Thank you ever so much for saving my reputation…how can I repay you?

12

[arms crossed]
Hmph! I can enjoy people for their company online! :smiley:
[/arms crossed]

13

Wow, Do-Overs… this is so tempting but all my mistakes have led up to who I am now! I can still dream though…
There was the time at that party when I was with a really cool guy but I had the hots for someone else ( a total loser-still is). This cool guy asks me what I’m thinking about and like an idiot I tell him … the other guy. Duh!!! or When I was 15 and having a wonderful friendship with the boy down the street and he asks me out and I say… I’m sorry, I really like this other guy (total loser-still is). Duh!!!

This same story has been repeated over and over… Great, smart, wonderful, amazing guy who is interested in me or that other guy who either can’t keep a job, sleeps with anything that moves or is simply not interested in me. Do-Over please!

14

Gracious, I thought this had faded into the ether eons ago. You must be really bored, **MissBHaven **… :smiley:

So then, your request has me in a bit of a quandry - while your actions way back then were not the wisest, you learned your lesson well, and the Mom side of me is reluctant to obliterate an obvious good. Still, I made the offer and I’m not one to rescind…

When the cool guy asks what you’re thinking, you opt to steer the conversation to why people get crushes on other people. He’s flattered, thinking you have a secret crush on him, and you are able to analyze you hots for the total loser. Having figured out that total loser isn’t worth your time and energy, you are now free from making that mistake over and over again, and you are more like you are than ever before.

And the loser is abducted by aliens, probed, and set down in a deep, dark jungle where he is adopted by a tribe of apes and taught to better himself.

15

You are amazing—I already have a better perspective!

I bet the loser does too!!!

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Ok. Here’s mine, though I’ve pretty much gotten over this, I still think about it from time to time:

When I was in college, I studied Elementray Education in the hopes of becoming a 5th grade teacher. The last thing they make you do before you graduate is student teach. I was assigned to a 5th grade classroom. I found out quick that 5th graders can make a totally sane and reasonable person turn into an insane psychopath. Due to this and other problems with the teacher I was working with, I failed the course and wasn’t able to graduate. I was crushed and distraught. I had never failed anything before and wanted very badly to be a teacher.

Well, the college said I could have a second chance at the student teaching and I decided to try again. I figured that 5th grade was too much and that if I find the right grade level, I’ll succeed. Was I ever wrong!

The college placed me in a kindegarden class where the teacher was a psycho (She freely admitted to me that she was in group therapy for being a workaholic… she would work so much she would forget to eat!). To make a long story short, I had problems with this teacher as well and consequentially got pulled from the class half way through the semester. I couldn’t believe it. 2 times I tried this and 2 times I failed. It hurt. It hurt very badly. I could understand failing the first time, but twice!!! To me that was just stupidity on my part.

FairyChatMom, I would like to do over my decision to try the student teaching again. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to ask for that kind of punishment TWICE! What was I thinking?

17

Ah, me, Dragwyr, I can identify… Back when I was the naive and unsophosticated klutz that had not yet become the me I am today, I wanted to teach… French… in junior high… Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time! However, I didn’t go nearly as far as you did. I dropped out after my freshman year, joined the Navy, then went back and got my degree some years later. But I digress… (Am I becoming a FairyChatGeezer???)

OK, when the college offers you a second chance, you do some deep searching within yourself. Your strong desire to shape future generations is overcome by your survival instinct. You decline the offer, secure in the knowledge that somewhere, someone else will mold the young 'uns, and you find a more comfortable niche.

Meanwhile, the psycho kindergarten teacher, weakened from not eating and overwork, is overcome by an equally psycho band of 5-year-olds. They come at her with fingers sticky from fingerpaint and white paste. Soon she is covered with scraps of construction paper and bits of feathers and felt stuck all over her body. She runs away moaning and wailing in dispair, and she’s seen only occasionally, caught on out-of-focus photographs featured in various and sundry tabloids. When you see these pics, you shudder, not entirely certain why they disturb you, then you shake it off, and life goes on.

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Thanksk FairyChatMom. I got a good laugh out of that. I still wonder what psycho teacher is doing nowadays from time to time. Now, I know. :slight_smile: