So for those who don't know me, I'm one hell of an accident prone person. I'm always tripping over something or absolutely nothing. Yes, I'm awesome like that. So I thought that since I haven't blogged lately, and I had a recent brush with my accident prone self, I thought I'd dedicate this blog to some of my best falling stories. Yes my friends, there's more than one. So here goes...
Story #1)
When I was in high school I was a dancer. (No, not that kind of dancer for all you pervs out there.) So I like to think that I was semi talented, and semi coordinated. Well one evening I was going to be dancing at the basketball game. The ultimate game. The hometown rivals. Well some of us were in the locker room hanging out before the line up when we cheer as the team runs out. Suddenly we hear them about to start the line up. So we run out to the the bleachers and throw off our coats. As we're running to line up I trip. Was it a slick spot? A towel? Oh hell no! It was absolutely nothing at all! Normally I might just stumble and recover, but oh that would have been cool. No me in all my smoothness totally eats it face first. We're talking sliding across the floor making that god awful screeching sound that skin makes on a hardwood surface. Now as soon as I stop sliding and look around to see where I was, who do I look up and see? The hometown rival's dance team. Yes, I've quite literally come to a screeching halt in front of the people I really wanted to stick it to tonight. The looks on their face were of shock and horror, but what did I do in true Jules fashion? I stood up, dusted my ass off, smiled like I did it on purpose, and took off running again. Thank god I made it to the line up safe the second time. On a side note, I really want to thank all my fellow dance team members for laughing their asses off at me instead of asking if I was okay.
Story #2)
So this one may not be as funny as some of the others, but it still makes me smile. One day a couple of years ago, I had gone home for lunch. See I live in an apartment complex, and I've lived there for a few years now. I've walked up and down the stairs many times both sober and I'll admit a little drunk, and I've only managed to fall in the thorn bush by the stairs once. Which is pretty good for me (and I was stone sober when I fell in the bush I might add). So this one day I had on these super cute high heels, and I was walking down the stairs to go back to the office. (Can you see where this is going?) Suddenly I trip. What did I trip over? I have no damn clue. All I know is that I'm falling, and I super awesome fashion I throw my weight backward. I don't know how I did it, but my super puma like skills kicked in and I ended up falling down only three stairs instead of all of them. However in all of my awesomeness, I did manage to totally lose a shoe. Looking up one was just barely hanging from my foot and the other one missing in action. After looking around for a second while trying to keep my life from flashing before my eyes, I see my shoe. I shit you not that sucker was in the parking lot! As I stand up to go get my shoe, I feel a sharp pain in my left foot. I look down, and there is an awesome bruise working its way across and up my foot. Yes folks, I have broken my toe. Now what does one do to help a broken toe heal? Not a damn thing. Basically you man up, and keep going. So being as awesome as I am, I stand up and gimp my way over to that shoe. I put it back on and get back to work. Yes, I am hardcore!!! Plus I'll admit that having an excuse to wear flip flops to work for a month straight is pretty awesome.
Story #3)
This weekend (yes my friends, you do NOT grow out of being accident prone. That lasts forever like a disease from Vegas.) so anyway I was house sitting for a friend this weekend, and she had a treadmill. I thought to myself hey! Let's workout. I thought it's no big deal to walk for a bit. (My running track record on treadmills isn't good. Let's just say Treadmill 2 - Jules 0) So I'm walking. I'm jamming to some good workout tunes that keep the pace up, and slowly increasing the speed as I go. When suddenly the machine beeps at me. Apparently this posessed by Satan machine has a certain amount of time it lets you walk a certain speed, and then kicks up on its own. Picture this. I'm hanging on to the bar and my feet are trying to catch up to the treadmill. (Yes, it was just like in the movies.) When suddenly my feet go flying out from underneath me! There I am hanging on to the bar for dear life, the dog I'm taking care of looking at me like what the hell, and thinking how do get off this thing? Thankfully knowing my previous track record, I had clipped the emergency shut off thing to my shirt. Hanging on for dear life, I yank that clip and the demon machine finally stops. After laying there for a minute with the dog wondering if I'm dead, I get up and decide that treadmills are not the way to go. Today I'm sporting a lovely bruise on my arm and a sore back. Oh and one more thing. Treadmill 3 - Jules 0
