Ruth is a full-time writer. Foodie. Happy camper. Wanders a lot. Used to have the worst taste in men. A reformed swipe-a-holic. Reviving her blog after its death.
Tuesday, June 03, 2003
Broken Glasses and such…
I’m a very very clumsy girl. I am.
I’m the type of girl who trips, falls down, and slips on the street without any help from outside forces.
I don’t think it’s in my body structure. My feet are normal, as far as I can tell. And I don’t think my body fats are distributed unevenly.
It could be my eyesight. Having a less than perfect twenty-twenty vision is definitely a disadvantage. But aren’t horses’ eyes covered on the sides just so they can concentrate on the road?
The usual victims of my superior lack of adroitness are drinking glasses. I don’t know. There’s something about a drinking glass on top of a table, filled with water, that lets my sense of ineptness out of me.
There was one time when I was having lunch with a bunch of friends in a restaurant. I was laughing so hard with what we were just talking about when my head involuntarily bowed down and hit my drinking glass.
The poor glass broke, while I didn’t feel a thing, except embarrassment because my stupid head didn’t have enough sense to have at least a gash of wound so my friends would at least feel sorry for me.
I lost count of the number of times when I spilled water across the table because I was reaching out for something, or standing up, or basically, just being within the breathing distance of any glass.
My latest feat, if you could call it that, was during my cousin’s wedding. I was one of the bridal entourage, and I was wearing an orange gown, and I was handing out giveaways to the guests. Then out of nowhere, I spilled all the contents of the goblet on a guest and half of my gown.
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