Sexy Siren or Deranged Nut Job?

Yesterday I had an "incident" which reminded me that I'm more goofball Lucile Ball than I am sex pot Sophia Vergara, though this fact does not stop me from finding and trying new ways to explore my sexuality.

Sophia Vergara Vs. Lucille Ball

At 42 I'm way more comfortable with who I am today, over who I was at 22, which is why I think I'm not afraid to try new ways of expressing myself, despite the mishaps that often occur as a result.  Today I'm going to share with you my three most memorable mishaps in my attempts at being sexy, which resulted in me being more Lucille than Sophia.


1. Sexy hair or concussion?

Let's start with what occurred yesterday, which got me thinking about all this.  I was working on an upcoming column at my desk when my significant other walked into the room.  I thought it would look super sexy if I flipped my head and hair forward, whipped it back so it looked all full and luxurious, then gave him a sultry look.

Instead, when I flipped my head forward I hit it on the desk.  He yells "Oh my God are you okay!" I start laughing despite my throbbing head.

2. Did I just give myself crabs?

Once upon a time a long time ago in a suburban cul-de-sac in the Lake Minnetonka community, there was a woman who decided to do her own landscaping, down there.  This is before I discovered how much better it is to wax than shave.  There are reasons why people go to school to learn how to do this.

After spending a creative 15 minutes in the shower with a razor and soap (I know horrible mistake!), I thought I had done a pretty good job cleaning up the baby making area.  I was going to surprise the Stud Muffin with my new look, but by the time he got home the itching and irritation was so bad, I thought I had somehow given myself crabs.

It was three days before I found the right mix of hydrocortisone and aloe to calm things down enough to not be scratching at my crotch in public.  Lesson learned, a professional waxer is your friend.

3. Come here often?

So I'm sitting in my car parked at the longest stoplight in the Western Suburbs.  I was twirling my gum around my left finger as I often do when I'm trying to do math in my head.  I think I was trying to figure out if I was having ovulation pains or gas pains, so I was counting back the days from the first day of my last period.

Out of the corner of my eye I notice my favorite kind of driver on my left, the tall dark and handsome kind, and in a BMW convertible to boot.  I do the classic touch my hair and brush it out of my face on my left side, using my left hand, turning my head slightly to get a better look, maybe even give him a little eyebrow raise and smile.

What ended up happening is the damn gum was attached to my finger still, so I of course ended up tangling into my long hair.  I should have just quietly sat there pretending to lean on my hand, but no.  I yell "Shit" and start pulling at my hair, which only attached the gum more firmly.  Mr. tall, dark and handsome gave me a confused look before the light finally turned green, and he drove off. I'm sure with the way I was clawing at my own head I looked like a crazed woman doing battle with a headful of lice.

Personally I think being sexy has more to do with being comfortable with yourself, Lucile Ball moments and all.  At 22 these things would have mortified me.  At 42, I know that things get better with practice.