Anyone who knows me will agree - if I do something, I normally do it BIG.
If I order a pizza, it will be a large one, and I'll eat all of it (and unbutton my pants after to make room for my expanded gut). If I crash, I will break bones (sometimes a lot of them!). If I teach high school, I'll be nominated for "Teacher of the Year" (I was!). If I'm watching a North Carolina Basketball Game, I'll be screaming louder than anyone (although that's not necessarily reflective of me - anyone who went to UNC is screaming louder than anyone). If I fall in love, it's madly and passionately (my poor heart). If I want to relocate, it won't be to a neighboring city, it'll be to a whole new state (several times across the country! oye - I am exhausted). If I'm your friend, I'm fiercely loyal and steadfast (and almost annoying), and I'll have your back in the heat of battle, every time. If I do a triathlon, eventually I will turn professional (where were my friends to talk me out of this?). My point is, rarely is there a middle ground with me - with anything. I'm in or I'm out. It is nonexistent or it is grandiose. Those are your Carole options.
Yesterday I wore the skirt that my friend Kristen once paid me a hundred dollars to never wear again, except when cleaning the house. Because it’s okay to look like a bag lady when you're cleaning. But the thing is, it has big deep pockets. And it’s all big and flowy and a nice greenish beige color, which doesn’t sound like a nice color but really it is. So I may or may not have broken our deal by possibly wearing it to the grocery store yesterday but it’s been over 2 years since that deal was made and I think the deal was made in an effort to make sure her friend stopped wearing the Duck pajama pants too (shout out to JZ, Lara and Billy!).
After a long day yesterday, I met up with my friend Ashley in the jeans department of Nordstrom’s because we had an hour to kill before the NCAA Final Four Championship Game and they were having a sale. I’ve been looking for a killer pair of jeans for over a year now and I’ve come to equate jeans shopping with the Prince Charming fairy tale. I keep thinking that when I see it, I’ll just know. Unfortunately this has not worked out with the whole jean shopping thing. Or the Prince Charming thing. Which is why I’ve decided it’s a fairy tale because OBVIOUSLY the perfect pair of jeans that fit me just right does not exist. It still doesn’t stop me from shopping for it, however....
So as we’re leaving the store, another jeans shopping expedition thrown to the dogs, I was walking up the flight of stairs that lead up to the parking lot. Maybe I was tired from the day or maybe that skirt was longer than I thought it was, but about halfway up I got my foot caught in the front of my skirt and I went flying through the air, arms flailing, screaming a violent "WOOOOAAAAAHHHHHH!!!" and landing on the stairs with a loud THUD (!!) .... apparently trying to also rip the skirt clean off.
Thankfully, my ass got in the way. Luckily I did not moon half of the city of Denver who witnessed this lovely display. (No Jamie, you perv, this would not have been my goal!) Once Ashley confirmed I was ok, she about died laughing.... It was quite a sight, even I have to admit.
If I am going to fall, it's going to be BIG.
As usual I am quite a show. Please tip your waitresses and bartenders.