Klumsy Car

March 24, 2015 at 8:06 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , )

Guys. I found my new car and I’m basing my decision solely on this vanity license plate.

I'm so uncoordinated I can't even take a straight photo.

I’m so uncoordinated I can’t even take a straight photo.

Remember all of my hilariously true stories about how clumsy and lacking in grace I am? Well, apparently I’m not alone. I walked by this car in the parking lot of my gym this weekend and it literally stopped me in my tracks because this license plate seemed to call my name. At least, it called the name I’ve been called numerous times in the past. To be honest, I’m lucky I didn’t trip over my own two feet in my excited state. I almost tried to get into the car but then I realized I haven’t owned a vehicle in roughly 7 years so it couldn’t possibly belong to me, even though it seemed completely and personally customized. Instead, I took a photo so I can remember what type of plate to request the next time I do purchase a car and I nearly dropped my cell phone in the process. Clumsiness scores again.

Maybe I should’ve tried harder to get in the car because maybe it would have taken me to some parallel universe where I’m actually not clumsy at all. Perhaps in this alternate reality I’m the epitome of grace and lead workshops and seminars on how to walk like a lady and never fall out of a pair of high heel shoes. My ankles and legs would be insured for millions because there would be no chance of my twisting an ankle while crossing the street. In fact, I’d be a world-famous ballerina – take that, Mom! This universe would also contain all of the dishes I’ve dropped and broken, along with my cell phones that have been submerged in water. I wouldn’t have random, unidentifiable bruises all over my body because I wouldn’t constantly walk into door frames nor would I have a habit of slipping and falling on the ground. My clothing wouldn’t have stains and the bottoms of my shoes would be miraculously free of dog excrement. I would still have my old living room curtains because I never would have spilled hot candle wax all over them and I wouldn’t have residual cornea damage from walking into a pine tree in college. In short, I’d be in a Paige-proof universe. And what would I call it?

Complete and utter fantasy.


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