Monday, January 11, 2010

You may hide on one side, and me on the other, you may speak, but wait for me should my sentence faulter

So here we are
Again
Back to the beginning
So the salt will spill again
Throw it over your shoulder



This is a video of Nancy Holloway footage mixed in with the Broadcast song "Before We Begin Again" and trust me, it's awesome. I could watch the opening scene where she's just shakin' it over and over again. If I were to ever seriously pursue my childhood dreams of becoming a singer in an indie band, I'd have to practice some Nancy Holloway/Emily Haines shakes, because they're both on point.

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I've been on a serious update kick which is good because as soon as the urge to write fills my fingertips, it's just as quickly drained from my head and all I'll want to do is sleep and eat candy.

After subscribing to my girl Hannah's BLOG she kindly linked everyone to her Platform article where she wrote "Self Inflicted Injuries I Could Have Done Without." It got me thinking about one of my favorite things to make fun of myself for; my total lack of grace.

I've never been graceful, not ever, not for a split second. I attempted to do ballet when I was a kid but my mom quickly made me quit upon realization that it cost A.) too much money and B.) I was the biggest kid in the class, she didn't want to make me feel self-conscious (thanks mom!)



Throughout my 21 years of existing on this earth I have never been one of those prim and proper girls who could do things without looking like an asshole, I've always been awkward. I spill drinks and slaughter an entire forest because I require a million napkins whenever I'm eating. I also grew up with two brothers and was raised by my step dad, another bad component on the manners and "ladylike" spectrum. It also didn't help that during the hell that is known as "puberty" I suddenly woke up one morning and had sprouted to a staggering 5'8, with boats for feet that fit inside a size 9 shoe. Needless to say I was a ticking time bomb for clumsy mishaps and childhood embarrassment.

I'm not sure if other tall girls (or just people in general) can relate to this, but during puberty I found myself tripping an awful lot. Sometimes I'd just get up from a chair and my legs would give out. It was almost as if my brain and body were not yet synchronized. My brain was too busy trolling AOL chat rooms and reading TeenBOP magazines, listening to the TLC Crazy.SEXY.Cool album and wondering when I was going to grow boobs. My brain had no time to be all "Hey legs, whazzup? Oh you want to walk, well ok, give me a second - oh damn, shit, did you just fall? MY BAD!"

During 8th grade arithmetic I raised my hand and politely asked to use the restroom. Upon standing I somehow managed to step directly into my open book bag, take one step forward, tripp, scream "SHITTT" and fall right on my face in front of the entire class. All my mates started cracking up (I mean, I would have done the same thing.) Luckily by 8th grade I'd learned to laugh at myself so I didn't take it personally, with red cheeks I took a graceful bow and went to the bathroom (as planned) to piss and reflect in the ladies room stall. I starred at the countless "I LOVE JOEY" and "LISA IS A SLUTBAG" middle school graffiti scribbled on the walls with sharpies. I took a deep breath and decided "Ehh.. fuck it, it could always be worse."

Fast forward to 6th period English class where I overheard a girl I didn't like with crispy bangs and bad skin snarking "Did you hear that huge thud last period from Mrs. Ambrose's math room? Jesus Christ, it sounded like a goddamn elephant!" I tried to pretend like it wasn't me, you know, the elephant.



Then a few weeks later I was walking to my 5th period History class that was located in a trailer (kid you fucking not, I grew up in Delaware) in the courtyard of my Middle School. There was a concrete sidewalk that lead from the front door of the Middle school to the hopeless History class trailer. On a particularly freezing winter day I quickly tried to walk from point A to point B. One minute my legs were working just fine, hey we're really getting the hang of this whole walking thing, and the next minute I was sprawled out on the sidewalk, my books everywhere and my knee bleeding. I hit my chin on the sidewalk too and my palms were all scratched up.

The biggest dickhead in class was right behind me (of course) and was having a fucking field day. For the first time in my life I didn't feel clumsy, I felt embarrassed. I was a teenage girl after all, stuffed to the brim with ragging hormones. One minute I was happy and the next I was sad, one minute I was siked on shaving my armpit hair and the next I was knicking my legs and all pissed off at the world. I picked myself off the ground and screamed "Fuck you!" He looked at me, stunned, "Uhh.. are you ok.." I shot daggers at him and started gathering up my books "No I am not OK I just fell on my face for no fucking reason!"

[I remember at this point I was becoming kind of worried that I just kept falling all the time. I had a brief talk with my mom about my concerns "Maybe there's something wrong with me mom," but she literally laughed in my face and told me to drink more milk.]

With all the sass and salt in the world I picked up my books and walked into the trailer. I took my seat and busted out my gel pens, ready to write my best friend a note about what just happened.

I was mid scribble when I looked up to see the bully standing beside my desk. "Hey look, I'm sorry I laughed at you.. I hope you're alright" was all he said. We made strange eye contact and he never teased me about me falling again. After that I can't really remember having anymore clumsy falling-flat-on-my-face spells. I had an awkward fainting spell when I was a cashier at Walgreens, but that's an entirely different story.

Stay clumsy guys. And tell me your similar stories, you know, if you have any. And if you don't have any that makes you perfect, in which case GTFO.

4 comments:

Nikki Ashton said...

hahahi love this. I too quit/was forced out of ballet.

- I thought doing a split was impossibleand cruel and unusual punishment

- i refused to do the moves i was supposed to and wanted to make up my own dance

no winners here said...

haha, thanks girl.

I think every little girl dreams of becoming a ballerina, until you learn that at some point you're expected to stand on your tippy-toes and dance, and you're all "what the fuck" it's awesome, but really wild to think about. that'll never be me.

Unknown said...

I'm just about the clumsiest person to ever step on the face of this Earth. I mean, I'm 5´1 and I can't seem to coordinate legs OR arms. For instance, if I have to grab something, say, a shampoo bottle in the supermarket, I'll knock over every single object standing in a considerable radius. Super-graceful. Also, I met my ex-boyfriend because I tripped over myself and he caught me before I hit the ground. That would be a cute story if we got married, but he's a jerk who cheated on me and now it makes me hate the fact I'm clumsy even more.

HJ said...

Love this! I don't believe that graceful girls with long necks and fingers really exist.