Tuesday, April 14, 2009


I am clumsy. Well, I am. In the past week, I have broken three ceramic vases, a steel reinforced mechanical door (and it's respective locking mechanism), fallen out of my own chair, and tripped over my own feet more times than I can recall. Sadly, I can't blame it on my sobriety because sadly I am not under the influence of anything. I am just wired to be the one person on earth with the least amount of grace or stability possible. I am not the kind of clumsy that Disney instills in it's heroines to endear her to the hearts of millions. I am not clumsy because my team of writers decided that I had to have one character flaw amid all of my amazing attributes. No, not me I am endlessly, tirelessly, clumsy. I'm the kind of clumsy that can break a priceless porcelain anything from across the room just by thinking about it.

My clumsiness knows no boundaries, and the possibilities of breakage and personal injury are limitless. I'm fidgety, I need to touch everything I come into contact with. I need to pick it up and hold it in my giant, clumsy hands. I need to bring it closer to my face so that I can see it clearly. I need to manipulate it in a way it wasn't meant to be forced. I need to break things, it is a compulsion that is hardwired into my genes. My gracelessness doesn't even stop in the realm of breakable objects. I hurt people all the time. I forget people even exist sometimes, because my clumsy brain loses the information. I insult people in crowded restaurants because my clumsy tongue can't find a tactful way to say anything. I am insensitive and I can't properly sit in a chair without falling out of it. I guess that's two more things to add to the list of things you don't like about me.


Anonymous said...


Jordan said...

Whomever thought it was appropriate to let me know about the passing of Bea Arthur anonymously, You're a good person.

Anonymous said...