I Am a Klutz, Just Accept That

     It happens all the time, I promise. No really, just accept it now. Yes, I am asking you to accept the truth even before I tell it to you. Crazy, no?

     Sitting on the couch watching netflix, proud of myself, because I'm being oh-so-careful to be a lady and eat this slowly melting Wendy's chocolate frosty in such a manner I don't completely the table I'm seat at. Quite convenient actually, I take it with me everywhere I go. It gets me places, though quite slowly sometimes, I might add, and I always know where to find it.
     I look down and weep in horror. I've tarnished my beautiful, lovely white shirt! Honestly, no matter how careful I am I always manage to make a mess of myself. Now what do I do? Oh, wonderful, my significant other just saw that. Oh the beautiful, hulking thing is getting a napkin for me to polish myself up with. Oh, it's green. Oh, now so is my shirt. Don't worry, I'll just wear my jacket over it now, and wash it later.

    He insists on helpful me get the distasteful spot out...with a bleach pen. Great, they're gone! But now there are bleach rings all over the shirt. Oh well, now I really will where the jacket, I was getting cold anyway.
    Who knew one could trip over one's feet going down UP the stairs!! Why don't we just put the cherry on top, and have me do a straight face plant? That's right, voluntarily. You heard me... No? You sure? Everyone else thinks it's hilarious...Oh no, wait, sorry wrong word. I'm "cute", that's it. I'm "cute". No, no, you spelled that wrong it's "clumsy".

    Why do I spend so much time making fun of myself? I just told you, apparently it makes me look cute. Ha. So try it sometime, you might make some new friends. Let your klutz shine.

A Bruise and A Bullet: Shooting Out Across the Mountain

     Hi, me again. Some of you might be shocked to hear what I just did. Knowing the small and sensitive person that I am, it doesn't really make sense.

     I usually stray away from anything that will present a risk for physical injury. Here's an interesting fact about me, I bruise like a banana. Anything, and I mean ANYTHING will leave a mark on me somehow. Even if it's only a brown and yellow spot from knocking the nerves out of my knee on the corner of the kitchen table, it still sticks around as a friendly not-so-friendly reminder of my clumsiness. As I have had many such experiences before, I of all people will be able to tell you it hurts.

     I mean it, even my first date, and by first date I mean the very first, brand-new, never experienced before date I ever went on in my life had it's marks. But that's a story for another day.
     So here it goes, guess what I did?...I went shooting. No, I don't mean deer hunting with gory blood and guts, and the whole package, I mean I went target shooting with clay pigeons. Surprised? No? Well, you might change your mind.

     On this just past lovely Saturday in September I invited my brother to come and have some fun with my boyfriend and I. Why not? It could be fun. Right? Having not exactly planned out what we were going to do (or so I thought), I messaged my brother a list of things we could do, prettied myself up in curls, white shirt, jeans and white ballerina flats, and we headed out the door. As we're picking up my brother I hear my lovely significant other decidely announce we're going shooting up in the mountain.
     Oh, ok. So we ARE going shooting. Should've told me to wear different shoes...these white ones aren't meant for the mountain nor are they going to be their cloud-white selves after this. Thankfully we get to drive most of the way up the mountain.

     Though I'd never shot an actually shotgun before, I didn't think it'd be too difficult. Hold it with both hands firmly, and rest it against your shoulder, right? But me being a not just small but short person found my arms didn't quite like the length of the shotgun, and despite preparations, it proceeded to slam my shoulder, and I never hit a single target...The boys did quite nicely, and my brother even hit a few himself! :)

     I knew what was slowly making itself a comfortable home on my skin, and what would be visibly present in just a few hours. That's right, a nice old brown and green bruise. I can't say how long it intends to stay, but one things for sure, I don't intend to go shooting again for the next little while.
   
     In the end it all seemed worth it. Went to Wendy's an got a chocolate frosty, and besides I got to spend some time with my brother. :) So yes, I would take a bullet for him. At least, I far as I've experienced, the blunt end of the bullet anyway. As long as he had fun. :)

Excuse me while I nurse myself back to health.

Jessica Ashley