just call me grace

Perhaps I should have named it, my rant when I have time to rant about things that are interesting to rant about. Maybe I'll rename when I think of something more clever. Anyway. It's Sunday night....another weekend has come and gone and I find myself on the verge of yet another trip to see Grandparents. I know, Grandchild of the Year Award, right here. I guess lately I've just realized how precious time is with people you love/care for and you have to take advantage while you can. On Tuesday the Trace and I are headed down to Tampa to surprise my other Grandma for a few days. Should be magical. I won't be begging for a Benz, but I'm sure I'll bowl 9345 rounds at the world renown Spring Hill Lanes.

Hopefully I can manage to bowl without injuring myself- which seems to be a regular occurrence with me lately. Now, anyone who knew me from age 7-17 probably already knows that I am the least graceful and most accident prone person alive. (Who breaks their wrist while roller blading on one leg to prove that I could go farther than my sister? This kid). I like to think I masked it pretty well in college (with the exception of a few incidents, which also involved that pesky Jack Daniels) but recently...its been out in full force. Case in point: While waiting around at the hospital the other day I decided to check out what kinds of glorious toys the gift shop had. I saw a few handheld poker games and then spotted it, a yo-yo. I don't think I had seen or even thought about a yo-yo in years. I see the price, $1.99, what a freaking deal right? After amusing myself and the other patrons (you're welcome Kelly) in the waiting room with my walking of the dog, baby in a cradle, and numerous other nerd tricks that I somehow know how to do, I get cocky (shocking) and throw my yo-yo a little too hard and pieces of it shatter and fly across the floor. I look like a moron and have to collect the pieces and sit back down in my chair. Most people would throw the toy out at this point, let it go Jordan. Not me. I take it home with me and instead of doing something productive like finish painting the bathroom (a task started 6 months ago) I decided to practice with my new slightly broken yo-yo some more. I remembered a trick my neighbor and I used to do back in the day that involves throwing it out in front of me like a softball and catching it....oh don't worry, I caught it alright. Right above my right eye. I immediately sit down on my floor and start laughing at myself. I mean really, WHO does that? Me, apparently. After some initial swelling, a little bit of bruising, and a weee bit of red wine I'm as good as new. The yo-yo has been retired to my garbage, and I'm just waiting for the next episode of gracefulness I can get myself into.