3/5/08

Murphy's law of klutziness

I don't know what's gotten into me as of late... but I think I may have caught some sort of klutz-virus. It's getting out of control. I seriously need to seek professional help.

I think it all started back on Christmas vacay, when Danielle (sister) showed me this You Tube sketch of Dane Cook imitating when girls leave the car after a date... and how they have the distinct inability to find the car door handle to let themselves out...

Well ever since I saw that, I've noticed I do the exact same thing. NOT when on a date, but ANY TIME I AM LEAVING A CAR. It's mortifying. And my reaction is always the same, to laugh and make fun of myself. And then to bat playfully at the handle, do a little pathetic "wwhaaaat" and generally look like an ass.

Sometimes I can't even FIND the handle. And I have to turn my head sideways, and look for it. As though I'm reaaaaalllly painfully far-sighted.

BUT SERIOUSLY.

Why is it so hard to get out of the passenger side of a car??

Then there was the other day when the town's fire chief came into work with a guy that's doing army recruitment. I casually know the fire chief. And I get up to shake the army fellow's hand and IN THE PROCESS DUMP MY ENTIRE GLASS OF WATER ALL OVER MYSELF AND MY DESK. So smooth. I try to make a joke of it... saying something like "Hi, I'm Jackie, and I'm very smooth" but I think I just came off flustered... which I was... but not because of the army guy, but because I was standing there with WET PANTS.

Then TODAY I went to the Sugar Rush for lunch. And got myself a bottle of cranberry juice... sat down while my lasagna was being heated up... and went for the latest issue of WIRED. Of course, it was in that plastic magazine-wrap, which as I tried to open it, the magazine escaped from my hands...

JUICE EVERYWHERE. Red juice EVERYWHERE. So I ask the girl at the cash if she has a cloth I can use to wipe it up (off myself, the table, the chair, the floor...) and as I go to the washroom to wring out the cloth, I notice, there is army boy again, front and centre as witness to my humiliation. Again.

Oh no, that's not all though. As I return from the washroom, paper towels and clean cloth in hand... I bend down to sop up the juice that had made its way to the floor and MY PANTS SPLIT RIGHT UP THE ASS.

Yes. I kid you not.

Luckily they were just wind pants that I had put on over my jeans... because I don't know what I would have done if it were my lime green underwear on display...

But that riiiipp noise just about killed me.

I swear I hope this wave of killer klutziness wears off. Because it's getting old. Though, it has given me something to write about on the blog :P

12 comments:

Anonymous March 5, 2008 at 1:28 PM  

Jackie:

Some day you will really laugh about the juice incident and the split pants. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but give it 5 - 10 years and it will be a memory worth telling over and over again.

You are being too hard on yourself. What you did not write about would be all the times you WERE NOT A KLUTZ. So stop beating yourself up over what did happen and know that you have many happier memories to dwell on.

Had a great visit with your mom, dad, and sis last night at Sr. Anne's wake. It was a sad occasion but a joy to visit with your relatives as there were many others there as well.

Edith

Kate Nova March 5, 2008 at 1:46 PM  

Oh my god. The split pants/spilt juice scene is straight out of a sitcom, especially with the reccurring army boy character. Just say to yourself, "Someday I will write a fantastic book out of this, and it will all be worth it."

Rob, Tina and the boys March 5, 2008 at 2:21 PM  

OMG you poor thing. I'm not laughing AT you, honest. :)

Kennie March 5, 2008 at 4:29 PM  

lol ... I can sympathize with the car handle issue. Most nights after school I catch a lift home with one of the Mounties up here, and every time, without fail, I can never get the door to open ... not because I can't find the handle, but because grab and pull it too early before the auto-lock has had a chance to disengage. So I usually wind up sitting there fumbling around with the big panel of buttons on the door .... all the while my "driver" (hehe) is laughing at me ... not with me. Always provides a good laugh.

Just me March 5, 2008 at 5:07 PM  

Been there had similar issues. Mine was getting stuck in a skirt and having one split. Edith knows the story. Very embarassing.

But...it army boy sees you again, maybe he will ask you out. He might think you are flustered by him and find that cute!

Jackie S. Quire March 5, 2008 at 9:21 PM  

All:

Go ahead and enjoy a good chuckle on this one.

Why else would I have made a lable called "Jackie antics" haha.

And yes, my life is very much a sitcom Kate!!!

Anonymous March 5, 2008 at 9:43 PM  

Hate to break it to you, duckie, but your klutziness is not a recent development. I can think of MANY examples of your less-than-graceful-ness. Need I remind you of the great hair dye incident in first year? But don't worry: your lack of co-ordination is part of your charm!
- Andrea

jen March 6, 2008 at 8:43 AM  

lol, I have had my pants split (right up the butt crack) in front of my cute crush of the time. Your right it's just Murphy's law.

Kennie....you sure you weren't just in the back of the police truck where you can't open the door? lol ;)

Anonymous March 6, 2008 at 11:54 AM  

Jackie & Jennifer:

I remember well that day your zipper went on your skirt Jennifer. I guess you could say it was "other duties as required" in my job description to keep a watchful eye on the person writing their test while you did a quick change of clothes.

It can happen to the best of us.

Edith

Matt, Kara, Hunter and Cavan March 6, 2008 at 4:07 PM  

hahahah well unlike Tina- I am laughing at you!!! You have the worst luck of anyone I have known!

But it sure makes for good stories!

Kennie March 6, 2008 at 4:54 PM  

Jen: Nope, front of the Truck. Our truck here is so picky, if it's not at a full stop the locks won't disengage, and if you pull the handle too early you gotta fight trying to hit the right button while wearing your seal fur mitts. John laughs his ass off every time watching me fight with the door. Besides, who would want to sit on that cold back seat? lol.

shelleycoughlin March 7, 2008 at 11:06 AM  

Oh man, I totally ripped my pants at work the other day and I was MORTIFIED. It wasn't like I busted out of them or anything, they got snagged on a tack, but still. There was a GIANT HOLE in my butt.