Wednesday, June 25, 2008

I promise I will find something to write about other than my own ineptitude soon.

Seriously, people. Did I recently somehow quietly swap fortunes with some even less coordinated soul than myself, ala Lindsay Lohan circa 2006? I'm sure there's a more mundane explanation than that, but there has to be some reason I'm so much more accident prone than usual lately. If I have switched cosmic places with someone, however, I hope he is cute. Also, I hope he isn't turned off by my current collection of bruises and battle scars. To recap, at the moment I am sporting the following:

  • A scab on my big toe from when I got rear-ended last week. (Sidenote: No word yet from the kid in the Civic's insurance company, which means either he is very slow with the estimate-getting or my own agent was correct when she said Ms. Leadfoot behind me would have to pay for his damages. Let's hope for the latter. Whoo!)

  • Three small red scars on my inner wrist and forearm from my bathroom-cleaning mishap.

  • A rather persistent bruise on my right arm, of long-forgotten origin.

  • A red scuff to the left of my lower lip--the remains of Monday's Lean Cuisine flatbread burn.

  • And finally, the latest evidence of my undying poise: a bruise on my upper thigh and rug burns on my foot and thumb, acquired when I somehow fell out of my shoe on my way out of the office and lurched and stumbled all the way to the floor.

Luckily, I am absurdly busy at work at the moment, so when I made this graceless exit at 6:30 this evening, the office was nearly empty. Nearly. From two rooms away, I heard the owner of the company call out, "What was that??" To which I had to call back, "Oh nothing. Apparently I can no longer walk; therefore it is time for me to go home."

From two rooms further away, my own boss said, "Stef? Was that you??" Obviously I should have said, "No worries. This sort of thing happens all the time." Honestly, by this point it didn't even faze me. Of course I tripped on my own feet and hopped and skidded to the ground with a thud. Who here is really surprised about this by now?

I watched a movie last week in which Ione Skye claimed that what every woman is looking for is a man who makes her feel like the movie version of herself. I thought that was a charming and accurate sentiment. I just hope that when the right man finally comes along and meets Movie Me, what he sees is not a slapstick-prone Amanda Bynes.

On a related note, I hope this evening's fall has convinced my boss that I am not the most appropriate person to keep her company at our gym's new "Stiletto Strength" class after all. If I can fall and hurt myself while walking on carpet in Birkenstocks, should I really be exercising on a wood floor in heels?? I'm gonna go with NO on that.

Incidentally, the crazy stiletto class just further proves to me that the town where my office is located is the closest thing to Stars Hollow I've seen in real life. Can't you just see Miss Patty
standing in the doorway of her studio calling out instructions to a group of random townie women in sweats and heels? I sure can.


Poppy said...

"A red scuff to the left of my lower lip--the remains of Monday's Lean Cuisine flatbread burn."

I apologize, but that made me chortle.

Pants said...

"Stiletto Strength" class?! Just reading the name hurts my back. If I were to attempt such madness I'd surely end up jetting around town in a Lark or Rascal scooter.

3carnations said...

I tripped yesterday at work which prompted my boss to tell me how he tried on new shoes this weekend and tripped and nearly pulled an entire display of shoes down catching himself. We're not alone. :) (Incidentally, he then bought the shoes. What the heck?)

Ione Skye was in a movie other than Say Anything?

nancypearlwannabe said...

Do you even have stilettos to work out in?! What is this, the 80's?

lizgwiz said...

Working out in stilettos? That's insane. Or something Carrie Bradshaw would do. ;)

If it's any comfort to you, it is GREAT comfort to me to know that I'm not the only person in the world who can trip over invisible things. (I'm SURE they're there, I just can't see them.)

Noelle said...

I hate burning myself on food, because it's always on the first bite, and then the rest of dinner is ruined.

Currently, I'm sporting a huge bruise on my elbow from getting out of the pool at the meet, a bruise on my hand from hitting the lane lines while practicing the fly on Monday, and then again on Wednesday, and best of all, a bee sting on the BOTTOM OF MY FOOT between my toes. Good thing I still have those crutches!

L Sass said...

When I injure myself and / or spill an entire 32-ounce bottle of water all over myself at work, my coworkers barely blink an eye. It happens that often!

Courtney said...

Yes! I could totally see Miss Patty doing that.

Working out in stilettos sounds like hell, by the way.

Lara said...

Stiletto strength sounds hilarious - and you're right: VERY Stars Hollow!!! I almost just said I wanted you to take the class so you can tell us all about it afterwards, but then remembered that your safety is at issue here. Never mind.

Mickey said...

You should probably wear a helmet. Everywhere.

-R- said...

I don't really think you're much more injury prone than any one else. But maybe I have a warped sense of that after reading your blog regularly.

Paisley said...

You fell out of your shoe?

Oh, my dear. I am so sorry. (but I did laugh)

Whiskeymarie said...

This reminds me of when I saw Amy Sedaris on David Letterman once. She told the story of how she was in the Chanel store, so she thought it would be fun to try on some ridiculous Chanel heels.
Well, she tripped and cut her leg, and ended up bleeding on the $900 beige satin Chanel pumps.

Then she had to buy them.

So...she wore them on the show, even though they didn't go with her dress and she couldn't walk in them.
Amy gives girls like us hope. God I love her.

Aaron said...

But your ineptitude is so entertaining, Stefanie! Don't ever change!

Actually, no, on second thought, please be more careful. I don't want you to wind up in crutches because you fell out of bed whilst sleeping or something.