There's Something Just a Little Off....

Wow! Two posts in one week after months of sparse blogging? My husband must be out of town. You guessed it. And there's probably plenty more to come.

So one thing I love about moms, sisters, and sometimes (when they are brave) husbands, is that they tell it to you straight. If I look like crap, no one hides it. I say it back to all of them as well. Who better to tell you that you are falling apart than someone who really loves you? This very thing happened today when my mother said to me, "I looked in the mirror and realized my hair looks terrible... but then I looked at you and you had the same thing going on." Awesome.

The thing is, this is kind of the story of my life.

I love getting dressed up or have some kind of an occasion to look "put together" for. It can be something as simple as a shower or dinner with friends, all the way to a fancy night out on the town. Whatever- it doesn't happen often, so I relish in it when it does. I'll try to pick out just the right outfit, spend time doing every strand of hair, and pretending that I know how to apply makeup.

Unfortunately for me, it only kind of works out. I'll be feeling pretty good about myself and somewhere in the time span of the unfolding event I will have some sort of hiccup in my plan to be a composed adult. It's not always a big deal, but it's the little things that get you, you know? Lipstick on my teeth, losing a button (always right on the cleavage), a bra strap keeps slipping out, I break a heel on my shoe, I get a wedgie, I break a nail (or two or three), my fly is undone, I have a zit in the middle of my face, I trip on my shoelaces, I lose an earring, or a myriad of other little things. It's as if the universe refuses to let me be perfectly composed for one night of my life. That would be way to impressive.

It's not always about the way I look either (I'm vain, but not that vain). I'll give you two good examples:

A- One night the hubby and I went to a film festival. The screening we went to was for a film that one of our friends had produced (it was fantastic, by the way). So before the screening they had a place to hang out and we got to meet the cast and all that fun stuff. It was really exciting to know someone that had something to do with it and we had planned accordingly and tried to make it a fun night out. We had to wait in line for a pretty long time and before we stepped into the theatre I left the group to hit the restroom. I was rushing along and dropped my ticket right in the toilet. This is not the first time I've dropped things in the toilet (the worst was my phone at the mall), so I knew I had to go right in for it. Luckily, it wasn't fully emerged and I tried to shake it off and handed it embarrassingly to the usher. Chuckling and somewhat horrified, I shuffled off towards my seat when the back of my shoe got stuck on a stair and ripped the heel right off of it (yep, I wasn't just saying that). I had quite the story to tell since the two minutes since I'd last seen my party. Ridiculous.

B- Only a few weeks ago we had a formal ball with some friends for New Year's Eve. I'm talking ball gowns here. Super duper fancy style. As I'm busting a move out on the dance floor (not good moves, either), I drop straight to the ground after tripping on my dress. I have to admit, it was hysterical and I kind of wished that someone caught it on tape, but nevertheless- can't I just keep myself together!?

I don't generally suffer from clumsiness, but you never know when it could sneak up on you. I can't imagine that these occurrences would lessen when I have children, in fact, I am terrified they will increase (and I'm pretty sure I'm right).

*le sigh*