Her Klutziness

If you've never dropped a drawer on your toe, shut your fingers in the car door, fallen while getting off a chairlift, knocked a display over at a store, grabbed a hot pan from the oven with a bare hand, repeatedly . . . you have absolutely no notion as to how my life is lived.

Grace Stone, that is what my name really should be - just call me Gracie, my husband does. I am a complete klutz, always have been, always will be. I am okay with that. When I was younger it embarassed me. Now, much more comfortable in my skin - it makes me laugh and even if I do feel stupid I can recover just fine. I have a bumper sticker that reads the difference between an ordeal and an adventure is attitude which is so true in many situations including klutz attacks. Adding to my graceful moves are the many furry bodies around here that don't understand their own personal space let alone others. They enable the klutz button much more than necessary.

My klutz resume ranks right up there with the best of them. I've sliced my big toe on a vegetable peeler (that for some reason was on the floor?), tripped and fallen on an uneven tile and sliced my knee open, canoed the white water with my Dad and then slipped on the riverbank, landed on the canoe and broke a few ribs, fallen down many, many stairs, fallen up the stairs, conked my head on just about everything - car doors, bunkbeds, freezers, counters to name a few. I've fallen in bird shit, dog shit and lots of muddy patches. I've been dragged down main street on my bare knees with my skirt up to my waist by 2 determined dogs, I've actually been flung backwards on the treadmill at the gym - yes, I am THAT gal. Sightseeing with my other half in D.C. I tripped over my own two feet, fell on the sidewalk and ripped a whole in my jeans. Backpacking in Great Britain with my sister, I got stuck in the doors of a train - my pack on the outside and me inside the train. I've fallen off my bicycle, crashed on rollerblades, landed a hammock on the ground. Once I ran into a coworker while waitressing, both of us carrying platters - I fumbled and he caught both trays and saved everything (graceful Richie). My klutziness has destroyed many a thing. I've dumped an entire cocktail on our laptop, washed and dried my ipod (brain klutz - BUT it still works), dropped the transmission in my Dad's car while learning to drive a standard, don't even ask how many vacuum cleaners I've been through.

After years of belly flops, falling out of trees, getting zapped by the electric fence -

I truly began to notice my klutziness in highschool. Realizing there was a reason I didn't thrive in sports. It didn't stop me from joining the UMASS novice crew team - which I quickly learned I was not cut out for when practice included climbing 12 flights of stairs, skipping every other step with hands behind the back . . . 5 times in a row. In my 20's I climbed Mt. Washington successfully and then tripped in the parking lot at the bottom skinning my chin, twisted my ankle on another hike and one winter wore bruises the size of a baby on my ass attempting to be a cool snowboarder chic (uh, no). In my 30's, as I mentioned, I've been able to truly embrace myself for the disaster I can be. I think of Lucy or Carol Burnett - truly fabulous klutzs. If you can't laugh at life then what is the point? Klutziness is out of my control . . . nothing to do but go with it.

"Best blush to use is laughter: It puts roses in your cheeks and in your soul." Linda Knight