Battle Scars

This was my response to a blog post I read this morning. It's seems random and maybe it is but I decided to share anyway because I still think it's funny.


I pride myself on my ability to wear high heels on a regular basis and do it well (with the exception of the one time my beloved heels led me to the most embarassing/funniest tumble I've ever taken)! I remember it like yesterday although in actuality, it was almost five years ago. I was in undergrad and leaving class when I realized I left my umbrella. So, I, along with a friend, went back to get it. I suppose my feet got ahead me and the heel of my favorite Nine West shoes got hung in the cuff of my black wide leg pants. I stumbled for what seemed like twenty feet. I could not get my foot back on the ground to save my life! Finally, I gave in and fell to my knees but because of the momentum I'd built trying to regain my balance, I fell flat on face. And this was only AFTER my feet rolled over my head!! All I could do was lie there in utter disbelief. I could not believe what had transpired. And to add insult to injury (literally, I skinned my knee), my teacher came wobbling out of the building at what was full speed for her and yelled in her African accent, "My goodness! Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?!" At this point, I managed to roll over and I'm lying on my back in the middle of the passageway laughing at myself. My friend has just now caught up with me. While trying (unsuccessfully) to hide her laughter, she urges me to get up. Here I am, a grown woman with a skinned knee! Luckily for me, this happened during the lunch rush so the majority of the students that normally congregate outside the building were across campus at the cafe. But still in shock, I made my way across campus to show my "battle scar" to my friends waiting inside the cafe.

Voicemail

...Kinda wish I hadn't written it. On second thought, I enjoyed writing it. I just should have let the inspiration remain anonymous but noooo, I just had to do it! It was fun and I got a kick out of it but now there's no more. The mystery of anonymity is non-existent. Just in case, you're wondering, "Voicemail" was written about the best sex I've never had and in one of my finest moments of randomness, I decided it would be a good idea to expose myself to...well, we'll just call him, "Muse." "Voicemail" may not have been the first but I'm pretty sure it was the last. I'm slighty confused because I'm a little disappointed by this. For who knows how long, "Muse" (or at least the idea of who I thought he was) had been my fuel. So, I guess this leaves me stranded and stuck on stupid. I should be used to this S.O.S. When will I learn? Luckily, I have at least learned to laugh at myself (sometimes while crying but laughing nonetheless)and the funny thing is,...now that I've revealed myself, he'll probably think everything I write is about him (kind of like, 'You're so vain. You probably think this song's about you.').