There are probably three questions tumbling through your head right now:
1. “Hey Stace, how was the 30th Annual Venice Canals Holiday Boat Parade?!
2. “Omg. Stace. How much are you loving your new Blackberry?!”
3. “Dude. When was the last time you, like, officially skinned your knee? Like, 2nd grade style?”
Oh, wow! Guess what?! I can answer all three of those questions in a single story. How convenient.
The 30th Annual Venice Canals Holiday Boat Parade was spectacular. Barry Manilow references, small children tossing Now & Laters to the onlookers (I got both Grape & Strawberry. Score.), a gay snowflake singing karaoke and frolicking in front of his Christmas tree back-up dancers… How can that be anything but a rollicking good time?
Apparently, I took that as a challenge.
As the sun set on the few remaining sparkle-fied dinghies, we attempted to venture from one side of the canals to the other. We were halfway to our next destination, when we stumbled upon an unexpected curb. My friend pointed it out to me. I stepped over it. Great success. A few feet later, we came to another curb. I spotted it, and once again cleared the vertical pavement with inches to spare. The ground below was a bit lower than originally anticipated, but thanks to my excellent balance (Seriously, ask Equinox. I rock the sh*t out of balance tests.), I regained my footing and did a little quick step to join the rest of the group on the sidewalk.
What I did not spot, was yet another curb. Another curb I came at with a quick step full of momentum. My super-cozy loafers caught the top edge of the curb, and I went down. With entirely too much velocity for my own personal comfort.
I have a lot of experience in falling. I am actually one of the most graceful fallers you will ever meet. I land softly and quietly, legs crossed demurely. I am not accustomed to full on face-planting. Luckily, my instincts led me to catch myself with my hands, so as to protect my face. Unluckily, one of these hands was holding a plastic cup full of red wine, which splashed against the left side of my face - and directly into my open eye. (Thank you, old couple in the home adjacent to my personal disaster zone, for the paper towels to clean myself up. Also, thank God for eye shadow primer.) My other hand happened to be holding my brand new Blackberry. It now looks like this:
My left knee managed to get in on the action as well. I think the damage would have been greater, if it weren’t for my opaque tights and knit OTK socks. Fun fact: I had purchased the tights the day before, as a replacement for another pair that I somehow managed to destroy in one clumsy moment or another. Stop judging. Gawky limbs. Impossible to control. Anyway, here’s a photo of my knee, in all its skinned-up glory:
I think I won this round.