You think you're smart, huh?

May I just share, first of all, the fact that few things in life can make me as childishly happy as the jazzy section in the middle of "Sleigh Ride."  Yes, Christmas songs are on the radio.  Yes, Starbucks has peppermint mochas again.  Whether you like it or not, the two month long period during which I belt out "O Holy Night" and "All I Want For Christmas Is You" is upon us.  Please don't tease me TOO much, and in exchange, I'll try to keep it down and limit the Mariah-ness.

I've noticed recently that regardless of how intelligent you are, life will make you feel like an idiot on a daily basis.  In the past few days, I have: sliced my finger open on a piece of aluminum foil, tripped over flat ground, and panicked that I had forgotten my car keys while I was driving my car.  I regularly make my own life more difficult, and I can complicate things better than a Facebook relationship.  Don't even act like this stuff doesn't happen to you.

1. Usually minor, completely self-caused stupid-hurts.
Yes, I gave them a name: stupid-hurts.  I call them this because this is the order of emotions you feel after they happen.  First is "I'm SO DUMB" and only second is "...hey, OW!"  Paper cuts are under this list.  So is *ahem* slicing your finger open on aluminum foil while trying to put pizza away.  Getting any appendage stuck in clothing.  Pulling on tangled hair too hard.  Slamming your hand in a car door (or trying to catch the trunk door on a station wagon from shutting... so maybe I did this when I was 6 IT HURT, OKAY).  Having stuff fly into your eye when you're outside and then trying to explain to people why it looks like you're doing a new event in rhythmic gymnastics to try to get it out.  After these happen, you look at the object that hurt you like "why would you do that to me?!" because you're trying to distance yourself from the fact that it's one hundred percent your own stupid fault.  The paper didn't grow little teeth and bite you.  It's your own fault you can't tell the difference between a sleeve and the opening for your head.  It's a GOOD thing that car doors shut - otherwise we'd all be hanging our feet and arms outside of the car and during the winter it gets nippy.  I like my fingers and do not want to lose them to frostbite.

2. Solid object fails.
There is NO WAY to make these types of screw-ups look like anything but your fault.  They are your fault, obviously, but everyone knows this already.  Tripping when the ground is even and flat.  Hipchecking corners.  Banging your head on a low door frame or a car.  The I'm-an-idiot part of this is that this stuff does not suddenly decide to move.  The door doesn't suddenly decide to Get Low (3-6-9, damn she's fine) and smack you in the dome.  The wall didn't decide to test its boundaries into your liver.  There was no earthquake, and the floor didn't suddenly become Great Adventure's Nitro and grow giant hills.  That bruise is YO' FAULT.  Also there's an excellent chance that when thi happens, you will be both 1) carrying everything you own, and 2) everyone you know will see you do this.  Expert level?  A professor, a crush, a future employer sees you.  Winner of the House Cup?  All three see you do it.  Winner of the Triwizard Tournament?  You drop or spill something as you go down.  You spin my head right round, right round...


3. OBLIVIATE.

Yes, I'm upping the HP references: the movie comes out soon, okay?  This describes when you forget things that you are using, wearing, touching, etc.  The stereotype is forgetting your glasses when they are on your head, but watch me one-up: ever forget you're wearing your glasses when they're actually on your face?  I HAVE!  I've also forgotten that I'm wearing contacts, put my glasses on my face and then flipped out because my corrective eyewear is making my eyesight WORSE.  What's going on?!?!?!?!?! How could this HAPP-oh, I'm an idiot, that's how.  I've mentioned how I panicked at a red light because I thought I forgot my car keys and they were obviously in the ignition, making my car hum away and ensuring that I could listen to "Hot Toddy" at reasonable volume (22 on my volume setting is clutch to be representin' for them gangsters all across the world).  I've gone looking for my phone when I'm conducting a phone call, searched for a pen when it's in my hand, and thought I lost my fleece when it was presently keeping me toasty.  I'm pretty sure this is where my aversion to telling people what I've lost when I'm looking for it came from: this way, if I'm an idiot, people don't find out when I send them on a wild goose chase for the purse I'm holding in my hand. 

Oh no.  They'll find out tomorrow when I give myself a paper cut and then stumble over a tile floor because it hurt, dropping all three of my civil procedure textbooks at once. 

I'm publishing this in the hopes that I'm not the only person who treats her brain as a fair weather friend when it comes to not acting like a clumsy tool, so if this stuff DOESN'T happen to you, can you keep it on the DL?  I got a reputation to maintain.  The Ruff Ryders are already pissed at me because I faceplanted getting out of the Escalade. 

Much love.