The art of being a lady

Under the new rules that I try to implement in my life the following one applies: just because my head is full of entertainment and action that does not mean that I shouldn’t watch where I go. It would have made sense if I would have thought about that before. But since I did not a few days ago my knees met the Shaftsbury Avenue pavement. And why, oh why, could I not fall like a lady? And the worst of it was when I knew I lost my balance and right in that moment when I thought I might just saved myself from an embarrassment and maybe I can pretend like I did not just enjoy a liquid lunch, that was the moment when everything went horribly wrong and I woke up on my knees with this random guy wanting to help me when the only thing I wanted to do is disappear. In all fairness at least I finally evolved from walking into walls to falling in the middle of a busy pavement. While my knees still hate me, at least the rest of my body has taken a pause from the constant closeness that I share with walls. And might I just add that I am sober while I do this (when under the influence of certain types of beverages at least my balance is impressive. I still walk straight into walls).

This comes at the worst possible moment as I have decided to be more lady-like (still struggling not to swear as my friend Simona knows) and wear more dresses and skirts. I don’t think my knees agreed with the decision that I took so they made a conscious choice to buckle and go against their nature and not sustain my weight anymore. It wasn’t like I was not looking where I was going, even though that sounds like a thing that I would do.

Maybe my lady-like behaviour should wait until I manage to learn how to walk… It seems like I do struggle just a smidge with the automated feature that my body should come with: walking.

I guess between the falling on my knees like I had an unplanned prayer session in Soho and the talking to myself while loud Fall Out Boy is shouting in my ears make me more unaware of the reality that surrounds me. My plans of being more lady-like will probably stop at wearing dresses on special occasions and having long hair. And due to my incompetence when faced with the simplest tasks such as walking or not getting my fingers caught in the door it’s a good thing I know how to have a laugh.

So now a few days later after the elegant bowing incident my knees look like I was in a kickboxing match with a tree. Accompanying my injured knees is my thumb shaped bruise on my arm. I look like an advert for the clumsiest person.

Now back to my book since there are smaller chances for me to injure myself while writing…