Ow!

I'm fully convinced that my family does it on purpose. there's just no other way there could be so many objects, so cleverly and strategically placed around the house and yard in just a certain way so I inevitably trip or stumble. it's a dark conspiracy, plotted against and me (and my big sister, too. she suffers just as much, if not more, than I do). then again, it might just be my natural clumsiness.

I trip over everything. I trip over nothing. if it's on the floor, I'll trip on it. if it's hanging from the ceiling, I'll bang my head on it. if it's protruding from the wall (trust me, it happens) I'll likely puncture my spleen on it.

One night, it was dark (imagine that) and I was about to go to bed, and had to go brush my teeth, so I go out of my bedroom into the dark hallway on my way to the bathroom, and seriously, there was this chair sitting right in the middle of the hallway! so I trip over it, of course. horribly. I did like a cartwheel over the thing. then I sheepishly go brush my teeth and on my way back to my room, I guess I'd forgotten about the chair cause...yeah...another cartwheel. embarrassing didn't even begin to describe my humiliation. I almost dumped the chair over the railing, but then I heard that little voice of Wisdom saying reproachfully, "Ah ah ah. hurling a chair down a flight of stairs at three in the morning while everybody's asleep is counter-productive." and so I grudgingly shuffled back to bed, with one last glare at the chair, swearing vengeance at a later date.

I've also found out that Foosball (not to be confused with football) is a very dangerous game. not only do I have to be on my guard against those poky sticks jabbing violently at my internal organs, but I also have to constantly be watching for the ball to spontaneously rocket at my face going a bazillion miles per hour at any given time WHILE trying valiantly to win the game. it's certainly an adventure, no doubt about it. a big, scary, life-threatening adventure.

I imagine it kinda like that book...Nightmare Academy, by Frank Peretti. where those people had that kid in that...video game...or vortex or something...and he was totally confused all the time and stumbled over stuff and was generally miserable...and the ground was on the ceiling or something...come to think of it, I never really understood that book at all. his second one, the one about the spiders, was better. if you ever have a choice, read that one. the first one really makes no sense, and yet vaguely pertains to my current topic of choice.

Anyways, back to the topic! short of actually wrapping myself in bubble wrap when I get out of bed in the morning, there's really not a whole lot I can to do remedy the problem. because...I trip over things that aren't there. so just being more careful isn't going to do a whole lot for me. actually, bubble wrap doesn't sound too horrible. in fact, might be kinda fun. but knowing me, I'd pop all the bubbly things for fun, and when I needed them, they'd all be popped, and I'd end up breaking my neck stepping over a leaf or something. Oh well. BUBBLE WRAP!

"Walk The Line" Johnny Cash. I don't understand why nobody else in my fambly likes this guy! he's amazing!!