1. "Pits of Ice"
Several years ago my family conceived what was generally thought of as a quite "brilliant thought."
"We've lived in this area all our lives and we've never explored the Ice Caves," someone or another lamented. "This must be remedied forthwith," another someone rejoined, and the idea was brought before Father and Mother, or perhaps one of them came up with it in the first place... but nevertheless the idea was proposed, found agreeable to everyone and soon thereafter our entire family, minus my oldest brother who had already joined the Military and was presently engaged in that tiresome activity known as "Basic Training," in which they attempt to make everyone who isn't physically fit, fit in only two or three months. But in any case, our entire family was thereby pioneering across the countryside in our humongous blue van, complete with a basket of snacks and our loyal doggie, Sunny.
Why no one thought to put the connection of "ice," and "slippery," and "klutz," together, and forbid me to enter the dark, freezing, icy domaine beneath the earth, I still have no idea, and so, together with Andrew, (my older brother,) and a host of littles, I found myself descending the steps that lead down into the pits of ice. I was terribly excited. Exploring has always been rather fun, and I was looking forward to seeing all the wonders of the caves. Alas, it was not to be. I made it down the long flight of steps without accident. I crossed two large boulders that stood in the way. Then, I put my foot out again and found the entire pathway blocked with a sheet of ice. "I can walk across this," I thought to myself, inching the other foot out onto the ice, pushing a child across in front of me to my brother's waiting arms. How delusioned I was!
Instantly my feet flew out from under me, and had I fallen it would have been quite painful, and I probably would have been sore for days. No, instead, a gallant young man who had entered the cave directly behind our party flew to my rescue and caught me in his arms. I was grateful, and thanked him profusely as he set me back on my feet, although I was extremely gratified that the dark interior of the "pits of ice" did not allow him to see my scarlet face. I turned once more to the path, and stepped out, quite intent of reaching the other side.
My feet again flew out from under me in quite opposite directions and the young man caught me. I thanked him a little less profusely and inwardly began questioning the sanity of this "exploration trip into the caves of ice." I tried again to walk across the ice, and then a fourth time, and each time I fell, and was caught gallantly young man, however after the second time, he just put his hands around my shoulders to steady me, instead of really catching me. (I think I was heavier than he expected after the second time! :)
After being caught in the arms of a complete stranger four consecutive times I informed my brother, my face flaming scarlet and tears about to flow down my cheeks, that I did not intend to complete my exploration of the caves, and would be exiting them forthwith. And he was welcome to accompany me or not as he liked. I would not stay in that slippery place a minute more than necessary! I left immediately and spent the rest of the time my family explored sitting on a very pleasant bench eating snacks.
yes, I really do this! At least once a week...
2. "One should never wear heels when folding chairs are present."
In December of 2014, in fact two or three days after Christmas, several members of my family decided to attend a swing dance in Downtown Portland. We donned our pretty (and gentlemanly?) outfits, and our favorite shoes. Mine, incidentally, were my pair of 2 3/4in. black pumps. They really are terribly comfortable, and I can dance perfectly fine in them, honest! The lesson before the dance began went quite well, except for a few mix ups with switching partners, but everything was going along fine. Right about the middle of the night, (the dancing night... not midnight.) I was strolling innocently along, intent of getting to my purse, which I had shoved into a corner, to grab a water bottle before I perished with thirst, when the inevitable happened. I say inevitable because it is so ingrained in my nature to be klutzy that it had to happen. one of the heels on my pumps caught sideways on a folding chair, and I tripped, heading face first towards the ground in a perfect arch, but then landed hard against a guy with my whole body weight, who happened to be perfectly placed to break my fall. All I could do was offer my stammered apologizes and leave as quickly as possible. I wonder if he is still confused about what happened?
3. "When exiting through doors that are weird and short, ALWAYS LIFT YOUR SKIRT!!"
This afternoon I picked up my brothers from a volunteer activity. They had mistakenly informed me that I had to pick them up at 4 pm on the dot, and I was running a little late because of getting caught in traffic. So when I arrived to pick them up I was flustered and found out that I had to wait another twenty or thirty minuetes before they'd be ready to leave. So that's the scene, I've been stressing and now I'm waiting and waiting... Finally they were done, I could sign them out and I was thrilled to be heading home to eat food. (I was stupid and all I had had all day was a couple cups of coffee and a quarter of a cheese sandwich, and a handful of pretzels. My blood sugar was low and I had a bad case of the coffee shakes/jitters. We walked out of the little gate, and headed to the big gate, out of which was a little door you had to stoop to exit. That was fine, and I stepped over the bottom part and ducked so that I wouldn't hit my head. Instantly upon taking a step I found myself flying forward onto my knees/hands/face... My skirt had gotten quite stuck on the bottom part of the door and I had done a perfect face plant in front of a ton of people! I skinned my knee, (haven't actually done that in a little while!) and landed on the hand that's been injured for over two years, so it's a little swollen and sore, but I'm hoping it won't mean more pain that usual after a couple days. All I could do was laugh hysterically whilst trying no to cry, and to make matters worse, a guy came over laughing at me, but then proceeded to explain that he had done virtually the same thing, only he got caught by his suspenders. :)
you know what I realized? Each of my three most embarrassing moments that I can remember off the top of my head involve me falling down ungracefully. Tripping and falling tend to be my kind of thing. In fact, I regularly fall down the stairs. Honest, mom will tell you that it's true! :) I really am klutzy and ditzy, but it doesn't bother me as much as it used to. I think I've realized that it's just part of my personality. Part of my routine. I mean, if I didn't fall down the stairs every few weeks, or spill coffee every morning things just wouldn't be the same! :) Can you be persuaded to share one embarresing moment? ;) (Hey, if I can come up with three you can handle one, right?)