Tag Archives: clumsy

This is Winning

For the first time in a very long time, I feel like I got just enough weekend. Now, don’t get me wrong – if my job kept paying me regardless of whether or not I showed up to work, I’d be at home on the couch right now, watching Criminal Minds and drinking prosecco out of miniature bottles so I could feel like a lazy giant.


But, since apparently “going to work” is still a condition for “getting a paycheck,” here I am. And not even particularly begrudgingly.

I got to start my weekend a wee bit early on Friday by volunteering at Cider Summit. It was fun pouring ciders, pretending I actually knew what I was talking about (hint: I was reading the backs of the bottles!), and getting to taste a few ciders myself. Bonus: I ran into a dear, dear friend that I hadn’t seen in a while and now we have plans to hang out next week! Hooray!

You guys, this is so good. I want to buy 144 cases of it and drink one every day for the rest of my life.

You guys, this is so good. I want to buy 144 cases of it and drink one every day for the rest of my life.

Saturday was a lazy-ish morning, followed by getting my hairs beautified (check it out! #40before40 item number eleven is taken care of!). Right? So pretty. Saturday evening was dinner out and then karaoke (because what else am I going to do on a kid-free Saturday night?)

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Sunday was another lazy-ish morning (I didn’t get out of bed until after ten…that’s just crazy), a nice little walk, waffles from the food cart, and then a drive south for more hanging out with people and eating and playing cards.

There was a lot of stuff fitted in to two and a half days, but I still felt like there was enough doing nothing to count towards weekend relaxation; really the best kind of weekend. I even did AOK with the sheer amount of hanging out with strangers and/or people I don’t know very well. There was some nervousness, but no real anxiety and not a single glimmer of a panic attack. That’s the real success, I think. It’s been a long time since I’ve been “on” for that many days in a row without needing a break to do some breathing exercises and to tell myself that it’s not a heart attack.



This almost makes up for the fact that I’ve been terribly, terribly clumsy the last week. I attempted to remove a thumb (alas! I didn’t cut it at the right angle to meet up with the scar from a previous thumb-removal attempt, so it’s slightly less cool), fell down the stairs (yes again), spilled hot coffee on that same, troublesome thumb, and then to add insult to injury, managed to snag my thumb band-aid on my bra hook last night while attempting to disrobe. I’m assuming that last one was especially amusing and my only regret is that I don’t have a video of that to share with all of you.

...and cut off her thumb, and did impromptu interpretative dances with one hand stuck behind her back...

…and cut off her thumb, and did impromptu interpretative dances with one hand stuck behind her back…

I’m really, except for the random acts of gracefulness, feeling pretty good about a lot of things. I just need a million dollars and some more free time, and I’ll chalk this solstice Monday up as a really good day.

Today is the first day of Eleanor's adventures! Also, a rare summer solstice with a full moon. photo by: Jonathan Paulson

Today is the first day of Eleanor’s adventures and a rare summer solstice with a full moon.
photo by: Jonathan Paulson




For five days now. I know.

It’s been such a busy few days. There was a lot of good and some not so good.

Thursday evening I decided I really, really needed to make apple cider sangria. And so I did. And lo! It was delicious.

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The sister wife and I hung out with the architect all evening until I got tired (or drank too much sangria) and had to go to bed.

Friday started out kinda shitty. It’s not my story to tell, but I would like to go on record as being pro-gun-regulation. I tried to get my Zen on, but was unsuccessful.

Two things that usually make me happy.

Two things that usually make me happy.

After the tense was over, I headed over to a nearby storage facility to sign a contract on a storage unit. It was not creepy at all.

(Mis)quoting a friend, "I'm not saying there's been a chalk outline there, but..."

(Mis)quoting a friend, “I’m not saying there’s been a chalk outline there, but…”

After paying money for that lovely space, I went home and found the sister wife waiting for me. We exchanged one of Satan’s handshakes.


and then went to lunch.

That evening, the Bean and I met the architect for dinner at Ecliptic then went home to see how the cider sangria had fared after sitting for 24 hours.

It fared well. So good.

I did my best to decimate the remaining supply.

I did my best to decimate the remaining supply.


Saturday, the sister-wife, the architect & the Bean went on a great train adventure. The best part of the adventure is that I did not have to go along!

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Instead, I finished another chapter and a half on my book, and spent most of the day hanging out with a friend. There was tasty food AND delicious beverages involved.

Porter and Thai Curry

Porter and Thai Curry

Sunday was moving day. But first, we feast!

Bloodies with tomato juice from the garden, cheesy grits, and egg clouds. And bacon. Obviously.

Bloodies with tomato juice from the garden, cheesy grits, and egg clouds. And bacon. Obviously.

We moved a few things into the storage unit, including a big-ass shelf thing. Our living room looks rather bare now, but we no longer live in a box palace and I feel comfortable having the house cleaner come back!

After the exciting storage moving (there was police action! Storage units are the best!), the sister wife, the architect & I (with occasional help from the Bean) cleared the garden of tomatoes. SW (sister-wife) and I headed to her house for jars and the the rest of the day was spent canning tomatoes (me) and finishing the deck (SW & the architect).



I was supervising. With wine. (I may have also antiqued the deck. With wine.)

I was supervising. With wine. (I may have also antiqued the deck. With wine.)

I mosied down to the local food cart pod to get the hard workers food and beer. I fell on the way because I INSIST on wearing this very cute pair of shoes that I have never yet worn without falling over.

I’m bruised on the shin, in the chest region, one hand, and a little swollen on the chin. It was awesome.

Imagine this (these are box carrying bruises), but all over my body. Yeah. It's SO sexy.

Imagine this (these are box carrying bruises), but all over my body. Yeah. It’s SO sexy.

Because I am awesome, I went to the food carts in aforementioned shitty shoes, but also my Mitmunk pink bionic leggings and a unicorn shirt.

So cool.

So cool.

I carried my Marie Laveau bag, too, because (a) I needed a way to get all the food and beverage home and (b) I am that awesome.

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After the deck was finished (and it is, except for fastening the stairs to the deck), we celebrated with food and beverage and fire!


It was no trip to NOLA, but I sure did have a delightful weekend. Wonderful people really do make for a lovely weekend.

sister wives

Further Accounts of Amy’s Awkward Adventures

Oh, gentle readers – I realize that it has been a very long time since I’ve shared with you a tale of me doing something clumsy, or humiliating (or, when the planets align – both at the same time). Fortunately, this very morning, I was able to fall down so that I could tell you a story.

First – I must set the scene.

Me: A woman. Carrying a large purse, a lunch bag, and holding a cup of coffee. Wearing a very cute dress + sensible shoes (very sensible, stupid Damian).

You: A bus. You are running late, which means I get to hop on  you instead of waiting 8 minutes for my (usual) bus.

Other factors: It has been sprinkling. Things are damp. You (the bus) are stopped at a red light.


I was pretty excited that the #35 was at the stop as I hopped off bus #1. Usually I have a 7 minute wait between buses, but I guess the previous bus was running late. So I hopped on.

I was walking to my seat (as one does), and the bus, despite being stopped at a red light, decided that in order to be FULLY PREPARED for the light turning green, should jump (did you even know buses could jump?) the five or so feet from the bus stop to the intersection.

At that point, my body attempted to do the splits. My left foot slipped out from under me. My right foot stayed put. My left hand, carrying the all-important coffee, went backwards. My right hand, carrying the less important purse + lunch went in a completely different direction.

Fortunately, I only spilled one drop of coffee. (Those who know me will attest to my uncanny ability to fall with full beverages without spilling a drop. I protect what’s important.)

My legs overestimated my flexibility – perhaps thinking that the recent yoga classes had developed more stretchiness than was actual.

I landed flat on my ass. My first thought was – “My dress better not be dirty.”

My second thought was, “I can’t believe I just fell down wearing a dress. Hey, mister! Eyes up here!”

And my third thought: “This wouldn’t have happened if I was wearing heels.” (True story – I have never fallen down in heels. But put a pair of flat shoes on me, and I enter clumsy city.)

The light turned green. The bus drive gunned it through the intersection. I sat, awkwardly splayed in the middle of the aisle, trying to get up without spilling my coffee.

The peeper (one of only three other people on the bus – I get on at one of the first stops) came & helped me up. Once I was seated, the bus driver (by now several jerky blocks away) asked if I was okay.

I briefly contemplated feeling humiliated, but then decided that was a waste of good blush, so decided to be irritated instead. My office mate confirmed that my dress is not dirty at all, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to have an awesome bruise on my left cheek. It actually kinda hurts to sit now.

So – once more, gravity had its way with me, but it can’t keep me down, man! Or, actually , it pretty much can, but I will continue to fight the good fight, and attempt to stay upright for a little while longer.


The man who helped me up? The peeper? Was a tiny old Asian man wearing a Durex ball cap. Which was weird, right?

Gravity – it’s not just a good idea, it’s the law!

This morning, the architect was driving me to work (as he does about once a week – and if I’m good, he’ll pick me up, too!) and we were having a discussion about my grace.

He said that he thought I was much less clumsy now than when we’d first met, and theorized (hypothesized?) that it was due to the double whammy of losing weight (less of me to run into stuff) and becoming more athletic (running + yoga = grace, relatively speaking).

I’m not sure why I thought this conversation was a good idea. Obviously that is how things get jinxed. After arriving at work, I was attempting to hit one of the ‘auto-open’ buttons for a door that was rapidly closing on the woman in front of me. I missed.

I missed because the toe of my boot caught on a rug. I tripped, and that door? The one that was rapidly closing? Was closed when my head got there.

I am so graceful. Graceful like a gazelle. ON CRACK!

“Realizations” or “How Amy is a Dumbass” or “Maybe the PT Knows Best”

So, I was going back through my training records (because I keep them. meticulously), and realized that every time I’ve dealt with any kind of leg injury in the past year, it’s always, always been when I start running four days a week. The first week of August, I ran Tuesday, Thursday, Friday & Sunday. It was a great week. A 32 mile week. I felt so awesome & strong. And then I did my track work the very next Tuesday & pulled a muscle.

My PT told me (repeatedly is probably  not emphasizing things too much) that I shouldn’t run more than 3 times a week – at least not if I wanted to have a long running career.

And, every time I run more than 3 times/week, I get injured.

But, see….the deal is that I don’t care that there are a ton of people that run faster than me. That doesn’t bother me. I am just excited about how much faster I am now than three years ago. BUT, I am jealous of the people who can run more than me. I don’t necessarily want to run 50+ mile weeks, but I would like to run 5 days/week.

Apparently, at this point in time, anyways, that is not a realistic goal. I need to remember that I run for me, and if I want to keep running for me, I need to run smart.

So – I am currently revising my running schedule for the next 45 (eek!) days leading up to the marathon. I am going to run smart and strong.

After the marathon, I am taking six months to build up a good, strong base. In that six months, I am going to concentrate on my swimming & biking, and running will be for maintenance only.

I probably won’t hit 1,000 miles this year, but that’s okay – because if I run SMART, that means that I can try for 1000 miles next year, or the year after, and every year after that until I’m dead, right?

I haven’t finalized my plans post marathon (and of course everything is subject to change), but I really want to work on strength training, weight loss, and (as mentioned) swim & bike. Because I really want to do more tri’s next year. Maybe even a 70.3. Maybe. And I don’t want to be plagued with injury throughout that training.

In GOOD news, my pulled muscle is no longer really bothering me, although it starts to twinge if I sit too long (so I’ve been trying to get up & move around more than usual). I had GREAT swimming lessons with The Ambitious One on Monday. She’s a great coach, and I’m already feeling more confident & stronger in the water.  Pretty soon, I’m going to learn another stroke! And then I’ll be all fancy!

Last night, I went for a bike ride with the architect. We did about 11.5 miles at an average 12 mph pace (i.e. slowish, even for me, and practically standing still for the architect). I wore my bike shoes for the first time in a LONG time – I had a few accidents in them last year – not being able to get my feet unclipped in time – and am afraid of them. BUT, with a seat adjustment, and the shoes, and pedaling in the largest front chainring, I felt that I was biking much more efficiently.

I feel pretty good about having such great swim & bike resources. The running (when I’m not being stupid) is something I feel comfortable/confident about already, but the swimming & biking are challenging – although becoming less so.

And, in keeping with the “Amy is a Dumbass” theme, last week, I bought a mandolin slicer. I have wanted one for a long time, because the slicing! Is fancy! and mine also juliennes! The architect made some funny jokes about how many times I would use the slicer before slicing myself.

Answer: twice. Ladyfingers anyone?