Got my leg caught in the laptop cord and it was pulled off the table, killing it.

Starbucks cup of coffee split down the seam and spilled all over the laptop, killing it.

I am now on my third laptop, and it was with little surprise that my manager very apologetically-and a little bit wearily-told me that the next time it happened, under Dream Job regulations I would have to be written up as being careless. Can't say fairer than that, I suppose. I look at my new laptop with a supreme reverence-one of the managers in my meeting today sat next to me with a large steaming cup of Costa coffee.

'Ike,' I growl under my breath before the start of the meeting, 'if you spill that coffee near my laptop I swear to God I will rip your guts out and dance naked in the spilled steaming intestines.'

He looked horrified and moved his coffee away from me but at least my point was made.

And I felt I made huge headway in the category of quality threats, which you can never have too many of, even if that one tipped the supreme repulsion scale.

I have a reputation as being a klutz.

It's actually a massive reputation, more of a place-card holder really. My yearbook should have read 'Most Likely to Trip and Crack the Rest of the Liberty Bell' or 'Most Likely to Bump Into a Table and Drop a Vial Of Ebola While Touring the CDC and Kill Us All' or something like that. I am not on the level of Bridget Jones, more like Bridget Jones with two left feet, a second head, and the inability to form complete thoughts in a single bound.

I've always been clumsy. When I was a little girl I was constantly walking into walls. It happened with mind-numbing regularity, and because I have such a flat face, I inevitably got a black eye from it. A number of my childhood pictures show some kind of bruising, and it honestly was from the sheer degree of clumsiness that I was possessed with. I simply never could figure out which direction my legs were headed in, and still can't.

Once when I was about 6 I fell off a jungle gym. Boom! went my forehead as I landed directly on a pebble. I got to spend a week wondering if the hole in my head was ever going to close or if I would spend the rest of my life making sure I didn't sit near the pencil sharpener, in case someone mistook the perfect round hole in my forehead for the space in which to file their number 2 pencil. I actually half-hoped it wouldn't close when it came to dealing with bullies-I wanted to be able to have my eyes fill up with tears (I used to be able to do that on demand, however I lost that important ability some years ago) and point to my leaking forehead and say: "Why are you being mean to me? You wouldn't want Old Faithful to start gushing, would you?"

Another incident happened when I was 7, playing tag on the playground. I was running from the It person and turned my head for one second, and when I turned back around, it was to the grim realization that I was sliding across the pavement with alarming speed. On my face. I slid for a little while before coming to a comic stop, and I turned my head to realize that I had tripped over a bench.

I tripped over a fucking bench.

Not even Goofy is that clumsy.

I spent Christmas with half of my face bandaged, and to this day when I cry you can see marks of where the old scars are.

I did it all. Tripped over a cord and broke my wrist. Had a bicycle accident and broke my knee. Had stitches a number of times for getting my fingers caught in doors or slicing the bread knife just a little bit past the carbohydrate it was focusing on. I was constantly bruised and banged, a very white girl with very purple patches.

Apparently, social services called on my mother due to my constant bumps and bruises, which hopefully she can now look back on and laugh about.

Something was always going wrong with me. In high school I had a bloody nose one day in the girls' bathroom. It wouldn't stop, so I made my way to the nurses' office. There, the blood flow still wouldn't stop. The principal called my mother and decided to take me home to meet her there. As he was driving me, he turned towards me.

'You have some blood on your cheek.' He said, pointing to a cheekbone.

I flip down the visor and open the mirror. 'Nope.' I say slowly and calmly, sounding like a chipmunk with my nose pinched shut. 'I'm bleeding out of my eyes.'

He looked at me and floored the car.

I think I took years off of his life that day.

Seriously, not even Tim Burton is this ghoulish.

I met my mother at the house and she rushed me to the hospital where, lying on a gurney with blood pouring out of my nose and mouth and little rivulets of blood tearing from my eyes, I had lots of attention as it was revealed I had a broken artery in my head. I could turn my head from side to side and I was pretty sure that I could hear the liquid in my ears as well. It was a rocking good time, up until I passed clean out from blood loss and soaked a whole supply of towels. I was really trying to figure out what exsanguination would feel like, if it was perhaps a new liquid diet for the 90's. When I came to while they were cauterizing my nose (they gave it to me after a quick dose of liquid cocaine to numb the nose but it clearly wasn't a dose large enough. Like Robert Downey Jr. large enough. I have never in my life felt pain that badly. Surgical cauterization while awake? I'll take a colonoscopy without anesthetic over it any day.)

It did the job though, and the next time I was back at that hospital I saw the room I had been in was now a supply room. I asked about it, and it turns out I was rather famous-they pointed out the pink stains still on the ceiling that was my blood that they couldn't get out. I felt cool that day, let me tell you.

A few years later I was in the prop room of a theatre when someone moved a bit of backdrop, hitting the string of lights and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. An enormous iron chandelier loosened and fell directly on my head, knocking me out and punching a hole in the back of my head. I was taken to the hospital, awarded stitches (amongst me tearfully pleading for them to please not shave my hair, I heard that blood is the new black and all) and a concussion. To this day, I try to avoid walking under chandeliers.

In the course of my life so far I have broken nearly every finger. All of my toes. My knees, my foot, my wrist. I have had three nose surgeries to repair a congenital defect (and it didn't change the shape of my nose, not at all), the final one of them culminating in removing cartilage from behind my ear and transplanting it in my nose (what the hell, my head is already more perforated than a notebook anyway, it's not like it will be missed). My nose still bleeds all the time anyway. I wonder if the image I project is that of a retired boxer or of rock star chick from the cocaine 80's, neither of which is true but is way more interesting then the truth-it bleeds just because. I have had hundreds of stitches and a few broken ribs (but that was my fault. I had a bit of an anger management problem and took it out during ice hockey).

To this day I am clumsy and I think it drives people around me crazy. I hate it when I get yelled out to pay attention, chances are I was paying attention and simply didn't think my foot would land on someone's crotch, or I didn't know the display of Lladro figurines was really that close.

I am still clumsy. I will always be clumsy. I still have no idea what my ridiculously useless long legs are doing, where I am in terms of space and time.

I just have to hope that Angus will just always remain insured for as long as we both shall live.

-H.

PS-It's been a rough week battling estate agents, dealing with the relative inability to access the internet, mails and blogs (although we have been given the firm date of having broadband working by next Friday), and coming down from the supreme stress that was Monday's bringing my babies home. And since we bought tickets months ago (BMI's £4 per person each way deal) we are off for a day and a half, leaving tonight for Amsterdam.

You know.

As one does.

See you Monday.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 07:03 AM | Comments (13) | Add Comment
Post contains 1598 words, total size 8 kb.

1 omg! I got such a laugh out of this... I can relate to the childhood clumsiness, as I managed to run face-first into a pole and break my nose while at recess. It wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been the day after opening a door into my forehead. Thank god I've grown out of it... took a while though. Here's hoping you grow out of your klutz-hood as well, darlin!

Posted by: Myles at December 02, 2004 07:59 AM (Ftq/N)

2 Now THERE's a wedding vow iffn' I ever heard one: "I promise thee to remain insured for as long as we both shall live." LOLLLL!! I've had my share of bumps and bruises; the most embarrassing being the time when I was oh-so-cooly demonstrating my ability on roller skates (I am a damn fine skater, BTW). I was attempting to impress a now-forgotten cute boy, skidded to a stop in front of him, pirouetted gracefully, and ran SMACK! into a pinball machine. I believe I'm still smarting from that episode. Oy! Talk about cringe-worthy. Have fun in Amsterdam! Oh how I wish. . .eh. You know. xoxo

Posted by: Margi at December 02, 2004 09:52 AM (rKX9f)

3 See, I think that I don't feel so bad about laughing hysterically at your post because 1) you wrote it so well and 2) I was the same way when I was growing up and am still clumsy. Although my list of broken things and blood pouring out of places is much smaller.

Posted by: Rebecca at December 02, 2004 01:40 PM (ZHfdF)

4 If we weren't 9 years apart, I might think we were separated at birth...although, like many others, I've grown out of my accident-prone ways. Maybe what you need is one of those sensors that tells you when you're about to run into or over something -- like the minivans have when they're backing up

Posted by: Solomon at December 02, 2004 02:13 PM (k1sTy)

5 LOL - ok you out-klutz me by a few broken bones. I'm still pretty clumsy though and since I bruise with ridiculous ease it always looks like I've been beaten lol.

Posted by: lostdawill at December 02, 2004 02:26 PM (TXLaz)

6 I kept thinking the list couldn't get longer, especially after the blood pouring out of the eyes. (that makes my eyes hurt.) Wow, you can look at it and think you're a klutz but I think you're lucky - think of all you've survived - chandelier's dropping on you, burst arteries - you've got better luck than most people, I'd wager.

Posted by: martha at December 02, 2004 02:36 PM (5HJ2h)

7 I feel your pain. I, too, was not terribly graceful as a child, and to this day I am very careful about how close to the edge of a surface anything breakable is. Your incidences outnumber mine, as well as your broken-bone count. do you know, every day at the job, I try not to walk with a group, so I'm less likely to be seen when I trip over that mobile invisible lump in the carpet? Every. Day.

Posted by: scorpy at December 02, 2004 02:40 PM (Bs3DJ)

8 Someone warn Amsterdam! I know I shouldn't be laughing about any of this but you tell it so funny. And you can look at it like you're clutzy, or look at it like you're indestructible. I'm voting the latter.

Posted by: ilyka at December 02, 2004 03:59 PM (+83+g)

9 well, that was ten million times better than that movie unbreakable. how are you still alive my dear? well, anyways, i'm glad you've survived yourself. ;-) have a wonderful time in amsterdam. i've always wanted to go there!

Posted by: kat at December 02, 2004 04:06 PM (QkuGS)

10 Shall we take up a collection for full pads & body armor for Helen? Or is Angus likely to need it more?

Posted by: Easy at December 02, 2004 08:48 PM (U89mk)

11 Think I'll start calling you Miracle Woman.

Posted by: brj at December 03, 2004 07:52 PM (8Dq/1)

12 Seems to me you should avoid places with glass doors. Yep, I've walked into them at full speed - and I'm not generally considered clumsy!

Posted by: B. Durbin at December 03, 2004 08:41 PM (mSKMG)

13 Let's see, I've broken my nose 6 times (only 3 of those times were from fights), broken and/or cracked my ribs 13 different times, cracked my right kneecap, broken 2 fingers, and all my toes at one point or another. You've definitely achieved the rank of Queen, but that makes me a Princess of Klutz.

Posted by: amber at December 06, 2004 08:26 PM (/ydz0)

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