Days of Grace

So on Friday I was supposed to go to a work party thing at a club in the Gaslamp but when my work-bestie bailed the perils of navigating the San Diego equivalent of every irritating club district on the planet became too great and the smiley internet guy and I decided to stick a little closer to home.

Date three, y'all. Just sayin'.

Anyway, as longtime readers of the blog may know, I'm not the most graceful girl on the planet. I tend to drop things, bump into walls and/or doors, and fall down with a fair amount of regularity. Friday I had 2/3 of a bottle of pinot for dinner and was wearing 3 1/2" heels on some rough sidewalks. Hilarity ensued.

You know, if you define hilarity as watching me fall flat on my ass then be unable to get up because I was laughing so hard. Internet guy promptly laid down on top of me, told me it was too soon to be flat on my back, and hauled me to my feet. He is pretty sweet.

My hands are all scraped & bruised, though. So. Much. Class.