Grace Redefined

Some people, when they walk, they glide.
They float on air.
They look like they're dancing.

Not me.
Nope.

Yesterday, in Starbucks, I did the slow motion trip.

Not only did I trip on myself...
I did a double-trip, almost falling flat on my face
but managed to recover only to trip again splashing my drink
but not dropping it.
It was graceful alright.
In a buffoon, comedic way.

Remember when I had to sing for my Starbucks?


Then I managed to shut my finger in a drawer at work.
My own drawer.
My finger.

Then later the same day, I managed to shut my shirt in the drawer,
so that I ended up all hunched over and stuck.

I'm graceful, I tell ya...

And then, at Target, I was trying on necklaces for fun...
the same day...
and managed to get the clasp of one stuck in my frizzy mop curls.

A few curses and minus a few strands a hair later...I got it unstuck.

I'm a walking definition of grace redefined.

Meet me at the Smash Shack

What do I mean? Well, you tell me. The answer could be:




A. Smash Shack; a place to go hang out and get totally smashes (i.e. wasted, drunk, snockerred...)



B. Smash Shack; a Secret Meeting And Sharing House (SMASH) where women gossip, complain about life and loves and get smashed...




C. Smash Shack; a place to go pay money to throw and break items to relieve stress.