Just for specific moments in my life. Like when I stepped on a soccer ball which caused me to roll forward into the splits and go headfirst into an old lady’s lap. Or, when offered a piggy-back ride, jumping onto a guy’s back which caused him to dive bomb into the pavement and break his teeth. Or, one of the most squeamish (and telling) memories of insisting that my 5th grade “boyfriend” hold my hand during a viewing of Anne of Green Gables.
But as K and I wandered through the KSU campus, other flashbacks caused me to sigh loudly and roll my eyes. I decided to reenact one for you at the very scene of the crime. Interestingly, though, we both thought the number of stairs leading into this building had been lessened. It just seemed small, but I suppose that’s how all memories disappoint you.
Okay, so let me set the stage.
There was a beautiful student, me, headed to class… My mahogany hair fell in layers around my face and shoulders… I was ab-solute-ly stunning.
What. That’s how it is in my memory. Okay, let’s be more realistic.
I rolled out of bed in my pjs, glanced at the clock, and ran out the door while rubbing toothpaste on my teeth with my finger for last minute freshness. I was lucky if my hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Ugh, I hated this class…whatever business class it was. Where’s my spanish poetry when I needed it.
So, with my mouth set in a frown and face turned down, I forged on. It was chilly that morning and was starting to sprinkle. Hurry, hurry, hurry. As I rounded the corner, walking to the front door, I happened to look up. And there she was. The epitome of “the girl I’d like to be.” Yeah, I could dye my hair red like hers, or work out a bit more for slender ballerina legs, but that gracefulness. Oh, that gracefulness. I watched her as she opened up the door, stepped out and then did a little hop onto the first step. Then a second hop. And a third. All the while her toes were pointed and wrists dainty. Damn it to pieces.
I sat through that class analyzing myself when I realized that I not only wanted to be her, I wanted other people to also think to themselves that they would like to be me! Control freak that I am, I literally wanted to force people into admiring me.
So give it a go, Carrie! — I thought — After class walking down those same stairs, it will be your debut into a graceful person.
So I did. I opened the door, dug deep for my kindergarten ballet moves, and gave my first hop.
It was also my last one.
What I didn’t know was that while in class, the rainy drizzle had turned into ice. After just one step, my legs went straight into the air and I literally remember seeing the sun and thinking “Oh my, what a beautiful sunrise.” Then thump a-thump thump. I landed on my back, arms outstretched like I was auditioning for Mel Gibson’s Passion of the Christ.
And two things happened.
First, a girl passing by smiled at me pitifully and said: Don’t worry, I’ve done that before too.
Not exactly admiration.
And then something more horrifying took place. As I peeled my head up off the stone steps, I looked down the path and saw, what else? A tour given to a large group of high school seniors!
“And to our left is Calvin Hall, where you will want to be careful to not try to look cool in front of others, lest it bites you in the ass. Literally.”
cuethebanjo.com 
O.M.G. First…you are hi-frickin-larious. Second….are we related? 😉
Oh, no! Do you have the 'I'll never be cool in front of people' gene, too? Yes, then we must be. P.S. *Still* love your blog!!