Saturday, March 29, 2014

My MOST Embarrassing Moment

I walk into the room and before me is a table of judges staring back at me. I think to myself, "Remember your opinions if they ask about gay marriage, Obama, plastic surgery, religion." I had spent years preparing for this moment. They say that the interview is the most important part of a pageant... and I wanted to win so bad.

One of the judges looked up from her paper. I instantly thought, "This lady looks like a republican, I can feel it. She's going to ask me about the healthcare system or abortion. She smiles at me and says, "So, what is your most embarrassing moment?" 

"OMG!" I think, "You have GOT to be KIDDING ME!!!" I look back at her and smile, but I'm panicking on the inside. "Why couldn't she ask me about abortion or Lindsay Lohan???" 

It's not that I don't know my most embarrassing moment, I remember it like it was yesterday. It's just that I can't tell ANYONE that story... much less this entire panel of important judges. How am I going to tell them THAT story? A queen would never reveal a story like this! I will never win. 

I look them all in the eyes and painfully whisper, "Are you sure?"

It's a cold, winter night in the Chicago suburb I grew up in. I'm 13 years old and had just gotten out of gymnastics practice. I'm waiting around for my Mom, she had a tradition of going to Borders and falling asleep reading in their cafe. 

Eventually I see her Suburban pull into the parking lot. I throw on my sweatpants over my leotard and get into the car. My little brother is there, looking chubby and annoying as usual. He's 10 and a total Mama's boy. "We need milk for my cereal and for your coffee Mama," he reminds her. 

She pulls up to the entrance at Jewel's and asks me to go in really quick. I actually don't mind going in alone because she would take 2 hours to buy a gallon of milk. I grab her debit card and run into the store.

As I walk towards the back of the store, where they keep the milk, I feel a sudden urge. I have to... you know... pass gas. Growing up my Mom trained us hardcore on being polite. We were not even allowed to say the word fart. I think to myself, "Cristina Neal you are a fine young lady! You do not pass gas in public!" My stomach starts to rumble. I pinch my butt cheeks together as tight as possible. I start talking to myself, "No, no, no! Not you! You will not fart in public!" I start speed walking towards the milk, thinking I could do it in the parking lot when I get out.

A few seconds pass and I feel like I am going to let it rip right here. I have to make a decision and fast. I am either going to fart next to all these people in the deli section or I can quickly find an empty aisle to release the monster. I bolt into the first cleared aisle I see... and I fart.

I fart... or wait, did I?

OHHHHHHHH MY GOSH!!! My eyes get big, my entire body goes into shock, I cant believe it. I stand there, completely still, looking at the canned beans and empty aisle. I had just diarrhea-ed all over myself!!! I still cant believe it. I am 13 years old and just sh*t myself in the grocery store. Since I am wearing my gymnastics leotard it feels like I have a balloon filled with diarrhea attached to buttocks area. "This is bad, real bad," I think to myself.

I come back to reality and am faced with the hardest decision of my life; to get the milk or not get the milk! "If I leave, I will have to explain to my Mom and brother why I do not have the milk. They will know I sh*t myself and I will never hear the end of it. Everyone will find out and make fun of me forever. I just can't let that happen.

I turn slowly and start shuffling over to the milk. I can feel warm liquid running out of my leotard and down my legs. "Stay focused, stay focused," I repeat in my head. I make it to the milk and start shuffling back across the store to the checkout. Every move I make results in more pieces of hot diarrhea sliding down my legs. The sweatpants, thank God for the sweatpants. They hold the escaping pieces of poop at my ankles. I smile awkwardly at the cashier as I pay and shuffle out the door.

Now the tricky part. My Mom pulls up and I get into the front seat of the car like an old lady with a broken back. I close the door and hold myself up with my arms. I can't sit or my diaper of diarrhea will explode all over my Mom's car! Giving away my secret. My Mom turns to me and says, "OH MY GOD! What in the world is that smell?!?!?!?"

Without hesitation, I whip my head around and look back at my little brother, "Oh my gosh Wili, are you serious?!?" My brother gives me a confused look, "NO! I swear, this time it wasn't me! I promise!" I insist, "WILLIAM NEAL! You are SO disgusting! I can't believe you would fart like that with me and Mom in the car!" We go back and forth for the next two minutes until we get home.

I try to walk as normal as possible into the house and straight to the bathroom. I realize I can't put my clothes in the dirty laundry. I take off my sweatpants and leotard, then humbly scoop and gather the feces into the toilet. I spend the next hour washing my clothes in the bathtub. The things one does for self-pride.

I look again at the judges and instead of telling them this story I say, "I don't have embarrassing moments. I think it is vital that in life we learn how to laugh at ourselves and live life freely." I won.



Thursday, February 6, 2014

Ways to Annoy a Tradeshow Model

1. Ask me if I work for this company or if my feet hurt.

2. Dear swag hoarder, if I was working a BIC pen promotion at $15 per hour, I would love to unload all these pens into your bag. However, we are at a tradeshow. Take one please. 

3. I was looking at your badge... And it says exhibitor... 

4. Mr. Security guard. I appreciate the safety you bring to this convention center... However, I forgot my badge and I promise you I am not trying to sneak into the Solar Energy Show for fun. Seriously? You won't let me in? 

5. Am I cold? Yes. 

6. Woa, woa, woa. I am honored that my 30 second pitch lead you to believe I am the CEO of this company. Let's hold those complex questions for someone who can answer them. 

7. BONUS I actually love working shows, but put any girl in 6 inch heels for 8 hours with 20,000 guys and she might get a little feisty :P 





Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Swim Against the Tide

Often I get asked, “What was it like being raised by Stephanie Cabrera, Puerto Rico’s first female surf champion.”



My Mom taught us how to surf, even though we lived 700 miles from the nearest ocean. For 11 years she worked the night shift as a marketing director for the Casino. She would suit up at 6pm and return at 3am to sea the three of us sleeping in her bed, but hey sometimes life’s a beach. Even the best surfer has to get down on their knees every once in a while. When it was pouring rain and all of our friends were summoned to the inside of their homes, she would put on our boots and take us outside. The rain would drench us instantly as we puddle jumped on the abandoned, city streets. When we would go out to restaurants we could only order water and growing up my favorite food was her Spinach Quiche. We never got to eat Fruit Loops or Pop Tarts for breakfast. The worst day of my life was the day she went to the thrift store and bought a pair of shorts made out of a potato sack. She wore them all the time. Frankly she didn't care what was cool. She always taught us to swim against the tide. Speaking of Tide, I also did a lot of laundry since my brother and sister were lazy bums. Wili could cook so I forgive him and Suni liked to pay me to keep her secrets so I forgive her too.


I’ve won a couple pretty nice awards so far in life (Miss Florida Latina, Miss Puerto Rican Parade, etc.), but the one that has meant the most to me was given to me in the 5th grade. It was a simple piece of paper given to me by my entire class that said, “Cristina Neal – Stands Up for Other People Award.” The most important step in life and in surfing is building momentum and having the courage to stand up. I remember a story my Mom used to tell me when I was little. In school she desperately wanted to fit in, but never felt part of the group. She overheard the “cool girls” talking about how they were going to cut their hair and that she should also cut her hair. The next day my Mom went to school with her beautiful, long hair cut very short and all the girls made fun of her for actually falling for it. From that day forward she promised to always be true to herself.



Almost everyday she found herself hanging out at the beach, across the street from her house. She would convince the boys to let her borrow their surfboards. At the time most girls where forbidden to surf by their parents and society. Eventually she realized she was pretty good at this thing called surfing and even bought her own surfboard. Something amazing happened; she no longer cared what the girls at school thought or said about her. At the end of the day it was her and her board, best friends forever. Finishing up she would ask me, “and do you know what the funny part of the story is? When I stopped caring about being cool, is when I actually became cool. People started liking me because I was swimming against the tide.” Over the years I remember this story often. In high school I didn’t drink, do drugs, or even go to a single party, but I still managed to win homecoming queen in a school of 4,000 students. Why? Because people respect you when you do you. Before leaving to college my Mom told me her secret to becoming the first female surf champion of Puerto Rico, “Keep your balance.” After all life is all a balance between the spiritual, physical, and emotional. At the end of the day, when your wave comes to an end, and your ride is over… you have to be ready to wipeout.



Cristina Neal 
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Stephanie Cabrera will be at Legend Surf Classic in Rincon January 18-20 2014