Thursday, December 08, 2005

Have You Met My Wife? Chevy Chase?

I swear, Mr. Zoom has said that.

I am hopelessly and painfully clumsy. I think the first sign of clutzocity to come was when I was 6, and walking home from school. I don't remember the incident itself, just the part where the doctor was stitching me up.

Apparently I went to take a step off of a curb, and landed with my chin in full contact of said curb - legs out behind me in the street.

How I managed to take a step and 180 around AND fall with my chin on the cement? I don't know. The woman who was walking me home from school that day couldn't even tell my mom how I had managed this. After gathering me up from the ground, I guess she saw the blood and knew it was not good.

All that time, I had no idea anything was amiss. Other than the fact that I had fallen down and my Mom was here "early". But it wasn't until I was horizontal on a steel table while the doctor poured antiseptic into my cut that I started to scream.

The rest of my life has been peppered with incidents of doh. There weren't any more stitches, but probably should have been:

The time I was playing with neighbor kids and managed to cut my palm with a rusty nail head that was in a fence I apparently tried to bounce off of. Right on my life line. Good thing I'm not into palm readings.

The time I was riding a motor scooter with a friend and we took a corner too tightly. I left ALL of the skin on the right side of my body there on the road. I also picked up some nice bits o' asphalt that Mom pulled out of my arms.

The time I was roller skating and fell down, chipping one of my huge front teeth. This wasn't much of a surprise, as I had the biggest overbite known to exist in such a tiny head. Ever.

Those were the big ones.

Since then, I've graduated to less mess of the bodily fluid kind and more mess of the items in my path of destruction kind.

And the bruising. I'm a leopard! Mr. Zoom is always asking me "where...what...how did you do THAT?"

My response is usually something like "Might have been when I walked into the wall and then rebounded into the corner of my desk two days ago?"

When we go into frou frou stores, or even regular people stores, I have to walk with my hands behind my back. I'm convinced my hands have a nefarious mind all their own and will fly out to knock over expensive items. As if the entire store were set up in a hidden domino style, just waiting for my hands to arrive and break free of my concentration.

And whoever thought all that convenient hyperlinking all over my computer desktop (either in e-mails, documents I'm working on or whatever else is clickable) at work was a good idea needs to be forced to administer computer support when I've accidentally clicked my way to either a frozen computer screen, or e-mails to the whole office that have nothing to do with anything.

OOOO! Or when Theresa or Rev. Brandy post some wonderful post, which links back to an older post. I suddenly forget where I am and leave a comment on the old post. Which is more appropriate for the recent post. And then I say:

"Of course I did that. Of course I did. It's me."

Other Chevy Chase Moments:

"Of course I hooked my scarf on the gate and nearly strangled myself. How could I possibly think wearing a scarf would be safe?"

"Of course I just came to a stop and my purse flew out of the passenger seat and landed contents askew all over the floor. Of course I can't reach it." Followed by "Of course my cell phone magically fell into this compartment in the truck door and I couldn't find it. There's only a 1 in 1gillion chance of it perfectly flying into that space, I had to know it was going to happen."

"Of course I just hung up on that caller while trying to answer my cell phone. I've only had this cell phone for 3 years, it's perfectly understandable that I still can't keep from hanging up on the people who call me."

"Of course I spilled coffee on my sweater not 30 seconds after buying it. There's already a coffee stain right about even with the girls where the coffee landed the last time I wore this."

I am human bumper cars. Enabled by Mr. Zoom, who unconditionally loves me, and occasionally laughs at me. Which keeps me from taking it all too seriously - because it reminds me to laugh at myself.

6 comments:

Rev. Brandy said...

Oh, sister. Sister, sister, sister. We really have to beat the truth out of our respective mothers, because we MUST be related.

When I was twelve years old, I ran into a tree.

And that's not even the worst clumsy moment I have ever had. I have also tripped over my own feet so often in public that I have learned to ignore pain and scramble back to a standing position so quickly that no one knows what the sound was. Public libraries --- down. Other people's homes (both inside and in the backyard) --- down. Parking lots of weddings I am about to officiate --- DOWN.

It's really, really bad. I am so fortunate I have never broken a bone. But, I absolutely wear the spots of which you speak. I am a walking banana-ready-for-banana-bread, I have so many spots.

Aisha T. said...

I here your pain. Although I have the cell phone thing down pat *sticking tongue out*. I've walked into many a glass door and have scars all over my body--even on my head. No kidding. My roomie was dying my hair and mentioned that I had a few scars on my head. I am constantly tripping on the street and last nite I got my purse hooked on a bolt on a scaffolding in Times Square and got jerked back so hard i nearly fell on my butt. But, I was hanging onto the purse so i couldn't fall all the way.

I've never broken a bone (I did knock out my front two teeth when I was a kid hanging over a shopping cart--bloody mess) but, I've had so many stitches, it isn't even funny. Seriously, not funny. My friends just shake their heads as they watch me bump and trip away.

theresa said...

This post is an anthem to us beautiful, but bumbling Hot Chiks!

They affectionately call me "Grace" *snicker* in my family because of my legendary cumbsiness. Most recently, I broke the revolving door at the Marriot in Raleigh, NC, trying to go through with a sewing machine. My sister witnessed it, so I can't pretend it never happened. Ilso get nervous using escalators because of the coordination required to mount and dismount the contraptions. I always have bruises, but I rarely remember where they came from, so I make up stories about scrapping with bands of pirates and such. I did break my ankle falling down the steps a few years ago ... but it was icy, so normally, I can do steps as long as they aren't moving.

However, this is all excusable because I have a doctor's note! Yeah, for real. After I told my doctor that I fell down while getting into my car, she explained that some people with ADHD have a problem with their thoughts getting out of sync their bodies. They stop paying attention to the ordinary tasks at hand because their mind has moved on to something else. At the same time, when the paramedics show up, I think they'd rather hear the story about the pirates than that lame old excuse about my miss-wired brain.

ZooooM said...

Well all, it is horrible for me to say, but it makes me feel a bit better that all of you have the same kind of issues. Or at least they are in the neighborhood.

REV! How could I have forgotten all of my falling down over nothing?? Poor Mr. Zoom is pretty well accustomed to me there one second, me on the ground the next getting all defensive and embarrassed. We are related, whether the mom will admit it.

Aisha, I forgot about my purse's ability to hook onto stuff.

T! You should see me concentrate on escalators! Until now, I hadn't conscously realized I'm probably afraid I'll fall down them. I've made people mad because I'm working so hard on placing myself on them, especially if I'm carrying something with me. Yet some lady with three strollers and bags of crap can hop on hop off with no difficulty!

Al said...

Hi my name is Al, and I'm a klutz.
My klutz-ness has diminsihed with age, just the various display has become less extravegant. one summer, I was like 10 or 11, I think we were in the ER at least once a week. If it were today, my mom would have been investigated for child abuse. One night, mom was having a party - lots of people over. All the kids are running through the house, I ran through the screen door. Huge bruise on forehead, big ass slice on arm, several other assorted contusions. Well after that, someone closed the french doors - the running continued through the house and you guessed it - I ran smack into french doors and broke my nose and fractured my cheek bone - yah I'm swift

AndyT13 said...

Amusing related story: For years I rollerbladed all the time in NYC traffic. Weaving in and out of taxis and buses, no problem. I don't wear pads and I don't fall down. One morning I take off my skates and decide to WALK to work. Bad mistake. I take no more than five steps and step halfway into a pothole and turn my ankle so bad I can't move. I limped for months and it still hurts when it rains. Man did that ever suck. Things like that often happen to me. I can execute the most complicated manuvers, but try to walk across the street? Forget it.