Grandy had a college lighting professor who used to always explain that "black-out" was not black. It was the complete absence of light.
What Grandy wants to know is whether or not bad luck was the complete absence of luck?
Yesterday I alluded to my skills in the lame-ness category, and I'm sorry I didn't exactly specify. Yes, Grandy went down a friend's deck like a slinky. Nothing broken. Very bruised.
This is only one example of how Grandy is not an accident waiting to happen, but rather an accident looking for a PLACE to happen. I get frustrated sometimes at the depth of my crazy clumsiness. Some of my injuries have been out of my control (car accidents, flying objects, etc.) whereas other injuries are thrust upon me, and perhaps I should have avoided it.
Yesterday, when I walked out of my friend's house I noticed that her husband had pressure washed the deck. So...knowing my inclination for such gravitational pulls...I walked over to the top step and reached out for the railing, so I could be careful walking down. So much for that.
Grandy steps down the first step...her feet fly...then thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. THUMP.
Grandy knocked her ankle, her arms, her knee, and felt an immediate 3rd butt-cheek growing out of her hip. All I could think of was, "get to the car and cry there". Grandy drove home, embarrassed and crying (because now the adrenaline is wearing off and the swelling is commencing).
If my mom reads this, I'm fine. If my sisters read this, I'm okay. If my girlfriends read this, I'm hosed, and could take a collection for a massage certificate. Except...That 3rd butt cheek. It's not going to let ANYONE touch it any time soon.