last week, i overslept (slightly) pulled on default overslept-need-something-that-won’t-look-funny-and-be-comfortable outfit (fuzzily) stumbled down the stairs (groggily) and walked out the door (rotely). i could see through my morning fog enough to look forward to the train ride, which i had been missing for the past month as circumstances made it sensible to drive. passing the crowd gathered for the bus in front of my house, i turned the corner to walk to the trolley stop. ipod playing, sun shining — i was just beginning to wake up.
two blocks into my eight-ish block walk, the toes of my perfectly-normal-default-comfortable-wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly-much-less-trip-me clogs sent me straight. down. to the sidewalk — flop — rotating me ninety degrees until knees met concrete aggregate.
like a seven-year-old, i looked down at my left knee and found my wool dress trousers shredded, and the skin below, too. like a twenty-six year old, i had to stand up and walk back to the house calmly, realising that i would not be taking the train that morning, and find other trousers to put on.
i got up the stairs to the apartment, walked in the door and — to my roommate’s quizzical why-are-you-back-didn’t-you-just-leave look, simply pointed to the knee and silently teared up. yes, they are just trousers, but this was the latest chapter in my onogoing, bi-annual spill-for-no-particular-reason-and-ruin-whatever-skirt/trousers/various accessories-you-might-be-wearing habit. it does seem to be a habit — **sigh**. and it was just the thing to put me over the edge to teariness that morning, which came in one of those sorts of weeks/months. …
as i relayed this story to a co-worker yesterday, he very kindly told me of a theater choreographer he knew who claimed that dancers were the biggest klutzes, because they were used to moving gracefully through lots of (level) space. that did soothe my ego a bit — i danced for a while, before giving it up (why??) to ride the pine as a third+-string shooting guard. so i always feel that i am dishonoring my ballet training when i fall, but now maybe not entirely…
anyway, that’s my latest trip, and the latest proof of the blog name.