Man Down

October 23, 2015 at 3:02 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , )

Yesterday, I was witness to an unfortunate incident involving some guy and a patch of sidewalk. I was walking to the el as part of my morning commute when I noticed a fellow jogging quickly behind me. He was carrying a banana in one hand and a coffee mug full of carrots or something in the other and as I watched, he tripped over an uneven part of the sidewalk. Badly. For a moment I thought he would catch himself as it was like a scene out of a slow-motion cartoon where he kept running and trying not to fall but then – he fell. Hard. And since his hands were full he basically landed on his shoulder/arm/face, all at once.


Now, this is a guy I’ve seen around the neighborhood before because we seem to have similar work schedules and I also see him fairly often at the gym. He has red hair so he’s even more noticeable and when he fell I ran up to him to see if he was still alive. I could clearly see his entire face was as red as a fire truck because he was so embarrassed, which is a reaction I understand since I’m engaged to a red-head myself. The poor guy tried to shake it off as he stood up and I attempted to make light of the situation by congratulating him on not shattering his mug but I could tell it was taking everything he had not to start crying. Hell, I wanted to cry just after witnessing his fall. I didn’t want to make things worse for him so I awkwardly muttered my condolences and we both continued our way to the el – walking, not running.

After we got on the train I looked at him again and he was clearly bleeding quite a bit from his various wounds. Did I mention that he was wearing a nice, white button-up shirt? Because he was and it was basically ruined. He looked pretty pathetic and helpless so I gave him the pack of tissues I had in my bag and he looked at me like I was Jesus giving him a loaf of bread. He cleaned himself up as best as he could while in a tightly-packed public space (though people were giving him some room because he was still bleeding all over the place and they were probably like WTF). He looked at me before he got off at his stop and gave me a silent nod that basically said thanks and my entire day is going to suck. I can only hope it got somewhat better and he could get the blood out of his shirt.

Now, I’m not sure if he’s ever noticed me around town or not but the next time I see him I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop myself from cracking some smart ass joke or comment. Especially if he’s in a cast. I think I earned that right when I gave up my tissues, right? Though I shouldn’t get too full of hubris because winter is right around the corner and I fall and bust my ass at least once every year. But at least now I’ll know which part of the sidewalks to avoid!

Permalink Leave a Comment

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.

Permalink Leave a Comment

And They All Fall Down

March 9, 2015 at 8:05 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , )

My streak is over. Here we are at the tail-end of winter and this morning I slipped and fell for the first time all season. We had great weather all weekend (and by great, I mean it got above freezing!) and the mounds of snow we’ve been dealing with for weeks finally began to melt. Which is all fine and dandy, until it got cold again overnight and turned all of that water into some lovely black ice. I could tell right away that the walk to the train was going to be a slippery one and I didn’t get more than a couple of blocks from home before it happened. I lost my footing and hit the concrete. Well, technically, part of me hit the concrete as I was able to sort of catch myself before my ass kissed the ground. I managed to hit with my wrist and knee, but the gloves and knee-socks I was wearing prevented any breakage of skin. Still, it hurt and was not a great start to my Monday. My pants were dirty (but not torn, which is good because they’re brand-spanking-new) and I didn’t have enough time to turn around to go home to change so I’ve been strategically crossing my legs all day. That’s just how we dirty ladies roll.


No one witnessed my not-so-graceful tumble so that’s something. At least, I don’t think anyone witnessed it – I did a quick look around after pulling myself back upright and it seemed deserted, so at least my pride was intact. But I’m pretty bummed about the fall in general, as this was the first time in roughly 8 years that I had a decent chance of making it out of winter without any major falls. And this one wasn’t really major (I define major as something that will leave a bruise bigger than a tea saucer someplace on my person) so perhaps I’ll pretend it never happened and continue with counting this winter as a win. Except I’m blogging about it on the internet, so I guess it’ll never go away now.

I can only blame myself. And that damn black ice.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Just Call Me Grace

February 10, 2015 at 8:57 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , )

It’s no secret that I’m not the most graceful of people. In fact, when I was a little girl my mom refused to let me take ballet lessons because she said I was way too clumsy and I’d never be any good. The truth hurts.

About right.

For the most part I’m able to regulate my clumsiness to walking into doorways and tripping over my own two feet but this weekend proved to be the exception. I was cleaning off our coffee table in the living room Saturday night and I accidentally knocked over a candle that had still-fresh wax floating around inside. I tried to grab the candle and succeeded in only knocking the wax all over our living room. It spilled all over my hand, the floor (thankfully its hardwood), the curtains and our new couch. Scott was just sitting there trying not to laugh as I freaked out about what to do. I was afraid anything I did would make it worse so I just stood and watched the bright purple wax harden over all of my life. My hand and the floor have since had the wax scrapped off but the curtains are ruined – these are curtains that a college friend helped me sew when I moved into my first apartment on my own and I’ll be sad to see them go. As for the couch…well, there’s now a strategically placed blanket where one didn’t used to be. That said, if you have tips on how to get stained wax out of microfiber I’m all ears.

You would think that the above fiasco would be enough for me for the weekend, but no. As I was making dinner last night and moving around the contents of my fridge, I completely dropped a brand new glass jar of banana peppers onto the kitchen floor. Glass shards went everywhere (as did banana pepper juice) and Scott walked in the backdoor as I was frantically trying to erase the evidence. He got another good laugh out of my misfortune and said he was just glass I had made the mess and not him.

Of course I did. He probably would’ve been allowed to take ballet classes, too.

Permalink Leave a Comment

It’s a Friday and I Can Cry if I Want To

December 6, 2013 at 10:51 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , )

Well, it’s finally happened.  The firm I work for officially told me that we’re closing at the end of the year.

I’ve been expecting this for a little while and have begun a job search but there’s a difference between suspecting and knowing for certain.  They’re going to try to keep me on through the end of the month but there’s no guarantee even of that.  The good thing is that my boss is being very lenient with my schedule and with me taking time off for interviews.  Also, I can collect unemployment if need be though I’m really hoping it doesn’t come down to that.  The bad news is I’m losing my super sweet corner office with a view and well, my job.  I’ve never been in this kind of situation before and it’s pretty weird.  It also obviously sucks.

It helped I had a holiday office party at the Art Institute to go to with a friend last night and it gave me hope that maybe next year I’ll be working at a place that has holiday parties instead of layoffs.  There was good food and an open bar, which I took advantage of.

Of course I did.

Unfortunately, I took advantage too much and in my super graceful state last evening, I knocked my brand new iPhone into the toilet.  I’ll be buying a new one later today.  I have insurance and if I had done this a week ago my plan would’ve paid for a new phone but apparently when I renewed my contract, the new insurance comes with a $150 deductible.  I wasn’t happy about that but figured since I had never needed it before it wouldn’t be a big deal.  Well I’m glad I have it now but I’m still not happy about shelling out more cash for a phone I just bought.  It’s an expensive lesson to learn and from now on my cell phone will be banned from the bathroom.  But, I’ve got to have a phone especially since I’m now searching for a new job.

When it rains it pours.  At least it’s Friday!

Permalink Leave a Comment


July 13, 2011 at 9:16 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , )

Apparently, I’ve been on a clumsy streak this week.  I broke my scale on Monday and walked into a door last night.

So I have to weigh my special needs diabetic cat frequently to make sure her blood sugar isn’t all out of whack.  This involves me standing on the scale with her in my arms, noting that weight, tossing her to the floor, weighting myself, nothing that weight and then doing a little subtraction.  It’s not the most foolproof thing but it works (although I don’t exactly enjoy weighting myself so damn much).  Well, that is it works when the scale is working.  On Monday I picked it up to do my thing and promptly dropped it, narrowly avoiding a serious toe amputation.  It is was a digital scale and when I stepped on it, it said HELLO and then ERROR.  Then it turned off.  This went on for a few minutes before I gave up and began occupying myself in other areas of the apartment.

Then I turned around and saw this:

Smart ass.

This is now her favorite sitting spot.

I tried to buy a new scale yesterday at CVS but the one and only unit they had in the store would’ve cost me my first-born child and since I’ve got big plans on turning said firstborn into a full-time housekeeper, I decided against such an extravagant purchase.  Instead, I came home and started laundry, which is how I walked into the door.

I had just finished two loads and was on my way out of the dark and scary basement when the injury occurred.  Like a genius, I turned off the light prior to opening the door and somehow, in my spectacularly uncoordinated fashion, managed to kick the heavy basement door right back into my face.  Over my right eye, to be exact.  I wound up just standing there in dark and cursing until the pain and tears subsided enough for me to make my way down the alley and up the three flights of stairs to the comfort of my living room, where I iced my wound while praying for no black eye.  Luckily it didn’t swell too much and my bangs manage to cover the worst of the damage but I still know what I did.

And so does my cat.

Permalink Leave a Comment

You’ll Put You Eye Out!

June 24, 2011 at 10:02 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , )

This morning, I watched a woman seated across from me on the train attempt to apply her eye make-up.  Don’t worry, I wasn’t a creepy stalker – this picture is not of her and is from the more anonymous  internet instead.

Not. Safe.

I see this surprisingly often and I just don’t understand it.  Every day, countless men and women lose their balance and dangerous bodily collisions are made all over the trains.  People drop their groceries, bags and children in attempts to stay upright and yet these brazen women are poking at their eyeballs with sharp little sticks covered in goo.  How can they possibly think this is a good idea?

I’m not saying they shouldn’t be wearing make-up.  But maybe they should consider waking up 2 minutes earlier and applying it before leaving the house.  I get all anxious watching them try to paint their faces because I’m just waiting for a catastrophic injury to occur.  As in, poking out an eyeball.  If this happened I suppose I could save the day by donating the Tupperware I carry my lunch in to house the poked out eye until the woman could be taken to the hospital but in reality I’d probably freeze with horror and forget to make that an option.

I mean, I know how often I poke myself with my mascara while I’m standing completely still in the bathroom and concentrating with all my might.  Perhaps other women are born with inherent ninja moves that allow them to apply make-up with efficiency and ease – but if that’s the case, why am I lacking that gene?  I was actually told this week by a male friend that I’m a “bad woman” because I had to Google the term “romcom”.  It means romantic comedy but I thought it had something to do with video games or the internet.  He said this in the nicest way possible but now I’m thinking that I’m missing part of an X chromosome.

Oh well.  I’m not putting my own eyesight and health at risk so I guess I shouldn’t really worry about it.  But if I have to rescue some hapless woman on the train and I won’t be able to keep from saying “Eye I told you so”.

Permalink 2 Comments


May 18, 2011 at 10:42 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , , , )

I’ve been able to talk to my dad and he’s feeling better – we’re all still waiting on test results but since there’s not much that can be done until we know what we’re dealing with, I’m trying not to stress.  And since the daily grind doesn’t grind to a stop just because a loved one is sick, I’m still going about my normal routine.  Which of course means waking up early and catching the train to work.


So there I sat, enjoying a few moments of peace and quiet before starting another work day.  I had my eyes closed and was in that nice spot somewhere between dozing and being fully alert.  I was also enjoying some random thoughts and one of them had to do with public transportation (shocker).  I can’t quite remember if I blogged about how the train jammed a few weeks ago and caused a nightmare of a commute for thousands of Chicagoans but if I didn’t, I meant to.  No one was hurt and I managed to miss the headache by about an hour but it was strange because that same morning, as I was on that train line, I had wondered to myself how many times I had to ride it before being involved in an incident.  Statistically speaking, of course, not because I’m into that sort of thing.  It was a little weird when I heard the news later that day but I was just thankful I wasn’t involved.

Back to today.  One of my random thoughts pertained to coffee drinkers on the trains, as there are usually more than a few.  I’ve never seen anyone spill anything on anyone else and considering how jerky the rides can be, that’s somewhat surprising.  Roughly 3 minutes after that thought morphed into another, I felt something warm on my leg.  After quickly determining I hadn’t just wet my pants, I opened my eyes and saw some dude in a suit staring at me with real fear in his eyes as he apologized.  My reaction time was delayed as I was still in that semi-conscious state but I do believe I looked at the stain spreading on my knee in utter disbelief.  Before I could say anything to him, he ran off the train.

Luckily for me (and him), we’d been on the train about 20 minutes and the coffee wasn’t really all that hot.  Still – some stranger spilled coffee on me!  Not a great way to start the day.  It didn’t end up staining my pants but it did forever tarnish my perception of humanity in general.  Alright, maybe my reaction wasn’t exactly that strong but I cannot say I was pleased.  I’m also now scared of thinking random things on the train because they seem to come true.  Tomorrow I shall test this theory and wonder how often people find hundred dollar bills on the floor of train cars, but somehow I don’t think that will produce the outcome I want.  Although finding some money would allow me to buy a handy poncho for my daily commute.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Clumsy is as Clumsy Does

July 29, 2010 at 2:14 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

My mom calls me Grace for a reason – I’ve been blundering around since I was a kid and she likes to make fun of me (remember the whole I-won’t-pay-for-ballet-because-you’re-too-clumsy story?).  I run into stationary objects such as door frames, walls and chairs all the time.  I trip a lot, often over my very own feet.  I drop things, spill things and am generally not very graceful.  Obviously my mom enjoys her sarcasm.  It was worse when I was younger and I like to think that I’ve grown out of total awkwardness and into a sort of elegant clumsiness that I can somewhat control.  It’s what I tell myself anyway.

My clumsiness is endearing

I do manage to use my cat-like reflexes to catch many of the things I drop before they hit the ground, and I’ve made some spectacular saves in my day.  And for as often as I trip I rarely fall all the way down (I’d like to thank both my spastic agility and big feet for this).  So for the most part I manage, but every now and then I have a day where everything I do seems to result in a personal injury.  Yesterday was one of these days.

The story of my life

A light bulb was out in one of the kid’s bathrooms here at the office, so I grabbed a chair and attempted to change it.  Notice I say attempted.  The fixture over the bulb must have been put on by magic because I tried for a while to get it removed.  Then I sliced open my finger on some unseen part and decided to give up.  I’m no match for curses or spells put on electrical fixtures.  I put a Band-Aid on my finger and went on with my day.

Then it was lunch.  Our office treated us yesterday and I ordered a sandwich with banana peppers.  They gave me jalapeno, which I realized when the juice leaked into my open wound.  That was fun.  After lunch, I was moving some boxes of files around and completely lost my grip, causing a roughly 30 pound box to scrape down the side of my arm and land on my foot.  That was fun too, and I had a nice red mark on my forearm to prove it.

After work, I made my way to the food pantry for a few hours of volunteering (super awesome in a basement without AC,

These can cause a surprising world of pain

let me tell you).  Part of my duty at the pantry is to help our elderly, disabled or otherwise immobile clients up the stairs when they have carts like the one seen here.  Keep in mind that their carts are usually loaded down with anywhere from 40 – 80 pounds of food at any given time.  I really get a work out doing this and I don’t mind but as I was helping one woman in particular yesterday, I hurt myself yet again.  Granted this time it wasn’t entirely my fault, as the woman I was helping didn’t have all of her mental capabilities and didn’t realize she was smashing my foot in between the cart and the stair.  My sandal wearing foot.  Even after I told her twice that it was trapped, she kept on shoving her cart against my flesh.  I finally disengaged myself and limped her cart outside, then took a quick moment to make sure all of my toes were still there.  This was not the same foot I dropped the box on, so I had that going for me.  Right?

After the pantry I felt like I should find a helmet for my walk home but I managed to make it without anymore injuries.  I did manage to give myself a minor burn as I was taking my dinner out of the microwave but after the day I had it hardly seems worth it to mention.  I was worried about taking a shower because I could envision myself slipping and busting my head but I tempted fate, had a shower beer and all was fine.

Grace prevails in the end.

Permalink 3 Comments