In those first few months of our friendship, I would often tell JulieAnn about the frustrating and embarrassing things that happened to me, in hopes that I would gain sympathy. But what would JulieAnn do?
And when I would try to explain that it wasn't funny, that this was my life we were talking about and yes, these things actually happened to me, guess what would happen?
She would laugh more.
My life (and all the devastating and embarrassing things that happened to me) was hilarious to JulieAnn.
Thirteen years later, she still laughs.
So, this is for you, JulieAnn. The woes of my week, the glimpse into what it's like being Kimberly, a clumsy, ungraceful magnet for ridiculousness.
- Yesterday morning I was leaving for work. We don't have a driveway, so Sam and I both park on the road in front of our house. I was parked behind Sam's car, so I backed up in order to pull out onto the street. I heard a bump, but there are giant walnuts all over the street that I always run over, so I didn't think anything of it. But as I started driving, I heard an awful noise. I pulled over in front of the neighbor's house because I thought maybe the bumper fell off and I was dragging it behind me. Nope. I was dragging a trash can. Our trash can that was set out on the curb for pick up. I had knocked it over and apparently backed up over it and it got stuck under my vehicle. I tried to pull it out but couldn't get it free, so I frantically ran to get Sam, worried I'd be late to work. I ran inside panting, "I need help, I need help!" Sam walked outside, but didn't see the car. So his first thought was, The Ford was stolen. So he freaked out until he finally saw it parked down the street, with a trash can stuck underneath it. I was squeaking, "I can't get it out, it's stuck!" He calmly and effortlessly pulled it out, laughed a lot, and went back inside. And I hoped none of the neighbors saw any of it.
- I trim my own hair because a.) I have curly hair so it's not really obvious if it's crooked and b.) I'm really cheap and don't like paying for something I can do myself and c.) I've never met a hairstylist who knows how to cut curly hair. (The trick is to cut it when it's dry, and to cut it curl by curl.) Yesterday I was trimming my hair and started with the longest layer, so the rest of it was piled on top of my head, when our doorbell rang. It was our next door neighbor (who I had not yet met), who had lost her kitty and was looking for it. Naturally I was distraught for her (You lost your kitty?! I'm so sorry!) and was distracted as I talked with her and promised I'd help her look for her lost cat. I had completely forgotten about my hair until I went back inside and walked past a mirror. This is what I looked like while I was talking to my neighbor, the neighbor I've never met, the one who undoubtedly hears me singing songs made up to my cats all day in my kitty voice through the open windows.
Any chance she doesn't think I'm crazy?
Hope your week was less embarrassing than mine was. Remember, these were just the things that happened yesterday. If I went over the whole week, this would be a rather long post.
Happy Friday, people.