Tag Archives: klutz

Sugar-Coating The Pavement…

Y’all… the humiliation is real… and also the bruising. Whitney’s famous face-planting status is alive and well, except I wouldn’t really call it well because seriously, what’s well about living with your head implanted in an ant hill? Nothing. I rest my case. This past Thursday evening I was out woggercizing with a friend when my left rocking horse shoe hit half on the paved sidewalk and half on the grass, turning my ankle and before I knew what was going on, I was cavorting with the earth worms. But, it’s fine y’all because my knee and right leg broke my fall. I’d post a picture of the horror that is my right leg, but I’ll save you all from having to stare at the ugliness of the pasty white against a black and blue and purple background that spreads from mid-shin to above my knee. My friend said I was very graceful whilst falling with this face plant, after which I laughed for 20 minutes straight because have you seen me be graceful… ever!?!? I rest my case. I imagine it’s more like an oversized, under-inflated basketball because I’m pretty sure I bounced at least twice. In short, strained left ankle, banged up right knee, bruising, whiplash, felt like I got run over by a dump truck the next several days (still ongoing), and an ego the size of a pea brain… but nothing broken… Someone was watching out for me, y’all! You don’t fall weighing this much and come off without breaking something that often. KNOCK ON WOOD! I would also like to give a shoutout to the 82 passing cars and 15 dudes mowing the condominum lawns… y’all owe me for the show I just put on!

Having taken a handful of psychology classes and also having typed and/or listened to psychology reports on a daily basis, I think I’m pretty qualified to diagnose my disease… coughcoughrealpsychologistslookawaynow. It’s day 15 without sugar and so the little gremlins that make the cogwheels move around in my brain are all like, WTH!?!? Where’s our IV drip of cookies and chocolate!?!?!? I’m pretty sure one of the gremlins subliminally saw a cookie on the pavement that day, except it was just a mirage. Kind of like those people who are thirsty in the desert and they keep seeing like 12 fresh water lakes in the distance… except with cookies and sugar deprivation. So, the gremlin was all like, activate klutz bone, thus the ankle turned and I was gnawing on the pavement pebbles as if they were chocolate chips. DIAGNOSIS: Sugar-coating the pavement! What’s the cure? Probably more sugar, but you’ll have to work a lot harder than that, dear gremlins!

This weekend was hard on the not eating sugar front, but I amazed myself and passed with flying colors! Is it just me or does anyone else feel that they are entitled to eat cake every time there is a holiday? Just me? Okay then. I feel like special food is required on special days and/or days without my usual routine. Suckers… try again next Independence Day! I can’t say I’ve missed sugar these last few weeks until I think about it… and then I start to want it something fierce. I guess it’s a good thing my brain only works once every 4 days now. Yesterday I made my favorite All Bran breakfast muffins and totally left out the sugar (it calls for half a cup normally). They still taste fine. I probably wouldn’t have said that 2 weeks ago, but now that I’m eating dates for my sugar fix, they’re just fine and dandy.

Hi’s everyone… me and gramma goes on a walk!

Happy 9 months, Baby BoBo!!

My daddy did my hairs to match his!

I hope we all take a few moments this Memorial Day to remember those brave men and women who have fallen so that we could live in this free country. The sacrifices they and their families have made are above and beyond anything I could ever fathom doing. Much love and respect from me to those who have served and are serving. Thank you!

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Filed under Exercise, Uncategorized

Uh… I’m Here…

Not gonna lie… didn’t really want to write up a post tonight.  I’m cranky and I’m tired and I made some statements in last week’s post that I’m not prepared to set in place at this exact moment on the spinning globe.  But, one way to get over cranky block is to just type nonsensically until you’ve spewed forth all of your crankiness.  I just made that up, but it sounds very official, don’t it?

We ventured up to ole Burley, Idee-ho yesterday for a get together with long lost Alaskan cuzzins, Carl, Julie, and their son Bradley who all came down to visit.  Cuzzins Jeannie and Marc were nice enough to have all of us hooligans invade their living space and wreak havoc amongst the furnishings.  Carl had threatened to bring one of his freshly slaughtered caribou heads to boil for a soup, but heavenly angels prevented there from being room in his suitcase!  See… someone is watching out for me!  Such a shame… I was really looking forward to dry heaving from the smell of it all.  Next time, cuzzin Carl… next time.

There were only a handful of cuzzins and such that joined the par-tay… but they were the fun ones (winkwinknudgenudge… they made me say that).  I made my presence known when I arrived… because like this body don’t stand out enough as it is.  As soon as they opened the door to let us in, I managed to drop an entire pint-sized container of Frederico’s ranch dressing on the ground… 2 inches from the inside of the door and the carpet (THANK ALL THAT BE HOLY!!!)  Oh Klutz-itney must be here!  They all said with a knowing glance.  I then made the host clean it up… made isn’t the proper word because he insisted he’d just hose it off when I arrived armed with a paper plate and one paper towel.  Apparently I was just going to scoot it along the drive 7 feet to the gutter.  That’s right… I leave a trail of the awesome stuff wherever I go!   The real tragedy is that no one thought to come out armed with a bag of carrot sticks to sit on the ground and eat the dressing!  Frederico’s ranch ain’t nothing to be ashamed of, y’all!

Madre and cuzzin Jacque.  Jacque just had a LASIK-like surgery on her eyes the day before and was sworn off from wearing makeup for a month.  She’s one of those annoying people who look good without makeup.

Mary Jean, Julie, Bradley, Jeannie, and Carl sans caribou heads!

Jacque and her Daughters of Utah Pioneers glasses… Merle… get me the ranch dip mix!

I hate this picture of me… but I’m posting it anyway… look at Cuzzins Carl and Bradley instead!

Cuzzins Bill and Sandy and Bill’s son, Tommy.

Cuzzin Garth and Padre.

Uncle Gene and Mary Jean.

Thanks for coming, Carl, Julie, and Bradley and for not bringing the caribou head, but most importantly, thank you Jeannie and Marc for allowing me to ranch dressing-inize your driveway.  I do it better than the best of them!

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These cutie patootie sweethearts gave me a surprise birthday balloon and decorations at Sundee dinner tonight.  And the googly-eyed cow is almost the spitting image of me, so it was totally appropriate!

And I didn’t even have any ranch to spill!  Let’s not forget the awesome beach/ocean cake, which as soon as I walked in Makayla told me was a secret and then 5 minutes later she couldn’t hold it in any longer and the secrets were all spilled!  That’s my kind of secret!

Already spoiled and still the same age for a few more days!  Thank you, Ryan, Angie, Makayla, and Corbin for thinking of me and making me smile!

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Filed under Family

Snow-Klutzing…

I’ve apparently lost my ever-living mind… or I’m discovering some of the cajones I lost two years ago when I slipped on the ice (yet again) and broke my wrist.  I have the balance ability of a very large abominable snowman perched on top of a knitting needle… catastrophe waiting to happen!  After that whole wrist kerfuffle, I swore I would never ever ever do anything snow/ice related again… that included skiing, ice skating, and snowshoeing… oh snowshoeing.  The ironic part of this whole thing is that I got snowshoes for Christmas exactly three years ago… the year before the wrist kerfuffle.  That year happened to be a crappy year for snow fallage, so I did not get out to try them.  The 2 years after I had a broken wrist and then had sworn off snow sports… you know me… daredevil Luigi and her magic wimp brain.

Imagine my delight when the opportunity to snowshoe presented itself to me the day after Christmas.  Oh, you kid… but I don’t!  I put on my dread brain before I went… you know the brain… the one who thinks up every catastrophic event that could possibly take place and then tries to figure a way to get out of it?  I had everything going… the one where I fell in the middle of the wilderness with a broken ankle.  I’d decided I’d use my zipper to reflect the light of the sun onto the snow in my glove so I could drink the water… and then try to murder a snow hare for supper… before or after I’d died of hypothermia I hadn’t really gotten to yet.  There was the one where I dropped the car keys that were in my coat pocket in the snow and then couldn’t find them so had to build an igloo using prairie grass… again, the hypothermia solution didn’t quite come to fruition.  I don’t do snow sports, so I had nothing warm to wear… no long-legged underroos or snow pants or tall socks… so I wore what I wear everyday… one pair of pants and a low-cut sock and crossed my fingers.  Madre, on the other hand had 18 layers and a snowsuit on… she’s much more vertically talented than I am.

Except in this instance… which I did not attempt!

I gotta say.  Wearing snowshoes is like wearing a big ole clown shoe and then remembering that your feet are bigger than what your head thinks they are.  My head was all like… size 10 feet… but my snowshoes were all like… size 8000000000.  It’s a weird sensation when you aren’t used to it.  When I’d finally taken the things off, I felt like they’d taken off the shackles that I’d worn as an imaginary character in Les Miserables.  I was free… FREE at last!

It was at this point that I was sure I’d be accosted by every character from Into The Woods whilst trying to stay upright on my gargantuan bear paws.

I found myself tripping several times… but I did not faceplant this time.  It’s a Christmas Miracle, Wilber!  Not even during the many times where I had to step off the trail into the deeper snow to let a cross country skiiers pass me by.  Of course I moved at the pace of a snail… tripping and hyperventilating all of the way.  Stupid dread brain!  To sum the experience up… I’d do it again.  It’s a great workout.  Hopefully the next time I’ll be able to find the off position on my dread brain so I can enjoy it more.  It’s broken, I tell you!

I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas!  What didja’ get?

PS – Does anyone have any recommendations for fairly clean television series that I could streamline before school starts again and withers my brain into oblivion?  Preferrably shows that can be watched online via Amazon Prime, Hulu, or Netflix?  I’m not into the nighttime soaps, so Grey’s Anatomy-type shoes are a thumbs down… but I’m open to other interesting ones!

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Filed under Christmas, Family