Ever Graceful

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Geesh, I feel like I need to give you all some kind of payback for tolerating my wallow the past few days.

What can I do? What can I do?

There must be some kind of funny story I can tell you that will illuminate yet another piece of the hilarity that is DAWN.

Chasing the ice cream truck after drinking a pitcher of sangria? Nope, you’ve heard it.
Getting stuck in the mud at the trailer home front yard? Nah, it’s been told.
Letting my roommate use a washcloth full of semen to wash her face? Old news.
Flashing my bodacious ta-tas to the 9 year old neighbor after failing to execute an underwater back flip? Been there, done that.

Ah, here is something.

I am clumsy.

Terribly, Terribly clumsy. If you can fall off of it – I have. Spectacularly. I am the person who falls down the stairs, off the bleachers, out of windows…(well maybe not that one, but you get my point – and I still have time)

In college, I lived next to a Physical therapy student, which was my good fortune, because she had to wrap my swollen ankles every weekend after I had fallen down, off, over or around things. Every weekend she would say “How did you DO this?” I would smile and shrug.

In college, I could say it was the vast quantity of the Black Raspberry wine coolers I was downing, or the Thunderbird later in the evening. But sadly, that doesn’t explain it all. When I was 12, I fell off the top of the bleachers at camp. I have fallen out of moving vehicles as they have turned corners. I am like a one woman prat fall show.

In 1997, I tripped while trying to secure the door in the child care center. I was preventing a disturbed boy from leaving the building. He was fast. So I tripped and hit the flagpole with my knee – and bashed my head into the wall. I think I whacked myself out a bit, cause when I did the internal “All systems check” that I do after every fall, I knew something was amiss. Now because I hurt myself so frequently, I don’t yell and carry on. So there I was, lying on the floor in the corner of the child care center. I am the Director.

Suddenly I hear a noise. A gasp, really. I know better than to move. The infant teacher was leaving for the day and happened to hear me breathing. She peeks in around the door and says “Dawn?” She comes closer. I turn my head to look at her. She leans down and yells “HOLY SHIT!”

Now this is a woman who is very calm. This is a building full of children. We don’t just yell “Holy shit” for no good reason. I haven’t seen the damage yet, but her expression does not bode well. Her daughter comes up behind her and says “Mommy, is she going to die?”

WHAT? WHAT? DIE? HOLY SHIT INDEED! Is there a bone sticking out? Has my liver fallen onto the floor? I say nothing and stare – hard- at the teacher. She regains her composure and says to another teacher walking by “Go get some towels – NOW.” She rolls me over and begins assessing the damage. She tells me not to look. Uh-oh.

I have torn open my knee…big time. I hit the metal edge of the flagpole stand when I went down and just opened it up. I’m pretty sure the bone was exposed, but they wouldn’t let me see. I also had quite an egg on my head from where I hit the wall. They had to carry me out of the child care center. It was pathetic. I got A LOT of stitches that day, and subsequently decided that I wanted to have a baby as I was laying on that table being repaired.

About two year later, in that same room, I fell off the stage while making a speech to the parents who had come to the “kindergarten graduation.” Just a mis-step and I went down three stairs to the floor. To my credit, I did jump up, ala Molly Shannon’s “Superstar”, and yell “I’M OK!”

A year later, I was doing laundry in my basement. Everything in our basement are on pallets- cause it floods, so I have to climb up an old “Step aerobics” step to thrown the laundry into the washer. (See? Right there? Money well spent on the aerobics step!) I go to step backwards to grab more laundry and miss the step. I twist and fall into a box of metal “closet organizer” stuff that some friends had given us when they moved. And I mean FALL IN. I’m pretty sure I’ve self impaled something. I try to call “help”, but I am in the basement and no one can hear me. I wonder how many hours it will take me to bleed to death in the box of closet organization materials – or when Terrance will think maybe he should find out where I’ve gone. This is dicey, since if he is involved in some sports game, or reading papers, or looking at the Internet, I could be alone for a very long time indeed.

After about a half an hour of lying there, amidst the twisted burning wreckage *, I decided to try to push up. I crawl out of the basement, and limp upstairs. I then bitch Terrance all the hell out for allowing me to practically DIE in the basement. Cause it was his fault.

This winter I fell down the stairs at work, dropping both cups of coffee. 48 ounces of coffee…gone. I think I cried. And the one time I tried to ski? Egad.

So don’t be surprised when I wipe it at BlogHer. It’s inevitable.

* Props to whomever identifies this reference

20 Baleful Regards:

Anonymous said...

I found PlayBoy, Absolutely FREE PlayBoy:
If I find something else I'll inform you.
Best Regards, Yuriy

Anonymous said...

BWAHAHAHA! I shouldn't laugh, but the image of you popping up yelling, "I'm OK!" is just too much.

I think the flagpole bashing would have freaked me out if I'd seen it. Did the rogue child get away?

We'll protect you at BlogHer. "Dawn! Move away from the stairs!" "Dawn! Watch out for the vicious flagpole!" "Dawn! Let me surround you with fluffy pillows in case you tumble!"

Jaelithe said...

Hehe my husband is like this. Only, I guess because he is a big muscular guy (6 ft), he tends to break the things he stumbles into more often than himself.

The other day he tripped and knocked a speaker off my computer monitor in the bedroom. Just cracked it right off the side of the monitor, where it was firmly attached and broke it. I believe that rather than asking if he was all right, I then made a snarky comment to the effect that he has broken more things around our house than the toddler.

Because I am a bad, mean wife.

Anonymous said...

I was a ballet dancer for most of my life and I'm the clumsiest girl (aside from you, maybe) that I know.

Oh, and I see Yuriy has come to visit you too. Yay for Spammers!

Julie Marsh said...

Please link the posts concerning other hilarity - I don't believe I've read the story about the ice cream truck.

I'm cringing just thinking about all those accidents. But I have to admit that I laughed at your expense too.

Anonymous said...

You are a definite Bambi on Ice.

By the way, does this mean you like to smell you armpits, too?

btw pt. 2) last week I left my untouched, large coffee on top of the newpaper stand at the bus stop. when I realzied as soon as we drive off ("why do I have an extra hand free? this feels weird") I serioulsy contemplated askin gthe driver to turn around so I could get it.

Andrea said...

My my, I think you and I would get along well, aside from my unfortunate inability to get a pedicure. I've tripped over things, bashed into things, and in general caused myself much toil and scarring. My mom insisted on velcro shoes for me from age six until ten when I cried that I was so out of style I was being made fun of. She relented, but I think she wanted to surround me with a bubble. When I would go on out-of-town softball tournaments, she would dread the phone call, "Uh, is this Andrea R#%@'s mom?" She then knew that I was getting stitches, had broken my nose AGAIN, or had somehow or other maimed myself. Good times. I seem to have gotten better with age, but I could just be setting myself up for that whopper of an embarrassing fall in front of three thousand people, and jumping up shouting, "I'm okay!" will be just as mortifying. Great post.

Anonymous said...

You and me both. I walk into walls in my own house. Oddly, I think I'm less clumsy when intoxicated. What's that about?

I think I have to see you re-create your Molly Shannon channeling at Blogher.

Anonymous said...

"On this very night, ten years ago, along this very stretch of road in a dense fog just like this. I saw the worst accident I ever seen. There was this sound, like a garbage truck dropped off the Empire State Building... And when they pulled the driver's body from the twisted, burning wreck. It looked like this.......Yes, Sir, the worst accident I ever seen."

Mom101 said...

Ha, something else Kristen and I have in common. I too was a ballet dancer for many years and my instructor always told me I was the clumsiest one she ever saw. I could pirouette like no one's business, beautifully, gracefully, then take a bow and fall right on my face. Or walk into the barre. Or stumble into the curtains and have them fall down on top of me.

I think you should just trip at blog her on purpose, just to get it out of the way.

Anonymous said...

Hooray for Pee-Wee! And hooray for the newest Club-mom contributor, yes they have no idea what they've signed up for.

I would offer to help you out at Blog-her, but I also fall down a lot, so perhaps we shouldn't walk to close to one another. Especially on stairs or escalators.

Woman with Kids said...

I sympathize. I broke my tailbone... by jumping on a door handle. I thought the door was closed when I hopped down off of a chair.

It wasn't.

I also have walls that jump out at me, and recently flew down my driveway, skinning both knees and cutting the tops of both feet.

Sugarmama said...

Awwwwww! That's so cute that you're so clumsy! I don't know why, it just is. But I haven't yet heard the story about the roommate and the semen-y washcloth. Where's the link? What's the story?!

Anonymous said...

oh, speaking of freaky clumsiness - I have heard of a person who broke their leg while trying to kill a bee with a magazine.

MrsFortune said...

That story about the daycare, man. Did you catch the kid?

I thought I was clumsy - I literally trip over my own feet quite often - but I'm gonna let you take the title on this on.

And I can't wait until Yuriy finds more and informs you of it.

Dawn said...

I told Terrance I had written about my "verticality issues" and he smirked.

And everyone...I'd like you to meet Donnie - my brother - he posted for the first time today.

Yes, Sadly it runs in the family.

Dawn said...

And Mrs Fortune - The little fucker stopped after he saw I was bleeding and stared at me. AND his father never even tried to apologize.

I believe he is in juvvie for fire setting now.

Anonymous said...

Owwwwww!! I share your pain. I, too am a clumsy one. I fell once at a pool party and gashed both my knees. My friend says she could've sworn I actually BOUNCED before I hit the brick firepit. Let's compare scars at BlogHer.

oshee said...

It is interesting to me that so many are laughing. I am seriously cringing. My knees, back..everything just aches having read your post. I'm not all that clumsy, but also not know for my grace. So, I tend to fall on occassion, but rarely to injury.
Dawn, I am glad you have survived each fall. It gives you character..the scars? LIke the dents in the car? Character? hehe ..Thank you for sharing so much of yourself with us.

Lena said...

Yay! You're going to Blogher! Yay!

Oh...about the knee - that sucks. Ouch.

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