Measuring my life

I think of all the things that I do on a consistent basis, I can say with utmost certainty that embarassing moments take up a lot of my time.  I can measure my life in these moments and the moments afterwards in which I actually hope that for once, the floor WILL open up and swallow me whole.

Today, after Zumba, I'm walking in the parking lot with my friend Michelle and looking at the new schedules the Y just posted.  Next thing I know, i'm skidding across the pavement.  Apparently I missed a set of steps.  Luckily it was only two steps, because otherwise I probably would have caused myself some serious injury.  I'm looking at my ankle now and wondering if its bruised, sprained, or just humiliated. 

Michelle was no help.  As I sat there red faced and blushing and giggling, Michelle was literally doubled over in laughter.  It took her several tries to pull me up because she was laughing so hard. 

Oi.

My only saving grace was that this happened outside, and I had 2 rows of parked cars in between me and the building, so hopefully no one really saw me. 

Hopefully.

I don't have any relevant pictures, so here's a picture of the cupcake I ate the other day.  Very Vanilla.

Show me a man with a tattoo and I'll show you a man with an interesting past. ~ Jack London

Embarassing moment of the day

One of the heating elements in my water heater went out a couple of days ago.  I thought I could suffer through the lukewarm showers for the weekend, but when I realized that I couldn't even wash dishes or clothing in actual hot-hot water, I decided to call maintenance at my apartment complex.  Of course I called them at 4pm on Friday (give me a break, I just woke up after doing overtime on my day off last night), so I have a feeling they were cursing me behind my back before they came in.  These are the same men referenced in previous embarassing experiences:  see here. 

In order to get  to my water heater, they asked if they could move stuff around in my closet.  More specifically, what is actually a shoe holder:  a tall compartmentalized thing that hangs in my closet that i actually store fabric and other things in.  So, I said sure.  So the one guy helped me move it, trying to minimize spillage.

*sigh*  I should have thought ahead on this one. 

Yes, most things stayed in the organizer.  What did not stay in the organizer and instead spilled out in front of my closet was what was on the bottom compartment:  5 brightly colored bikini swimsuits.  That are quite obviously bikini swimsuits. 

As they lay in a pile in front of the closet, one of the men starts reaching for them to move them out of the way.  I almost died of embarassment on the spot.  I mean, really.  They're not underwear.  But they're almost as personal. 

I told the guy not to bother - as I quickly shoved them into my laundry hamper. 

Oi.

My only saving grace was that I semi-cleaned this weekend so the place was picked up, does not smell like wet dog, and I don't have any other articles of underwear hanging out in my bedroom or bathroom. 

However, also please note that since I just woke up right before I called them (they came right away) I was still in my PJ's and robe with my bedhead half-tamed into a ponytail. 

I'm hoping thats my only major embarassment for the day. 

I would post more, but I'm in the middle of some culinary genius in the kitchen (note the hint of sarcasm), and I need to keep checking that Atticus does not get into the bacon.

"Sue" is keeping her name under-wraps for obvious reasons.
I'm a huge fan of unnecessary quotes. 

Live for the roots
Love the green
Dance with the blossoms
~Terri Guillemets