I mentioned in my list of fears that I have a fear of falling because of two epic incidents. I will now describe those to you.
The first happened when I was stage managing at Dobama Theater. At the old location, and for those of you who have no idea what Dobama Theater is, it was in the basement. So you walked up stairs into a foyer, and then you walked out the front door to a small stoop, and then you gracefully step down off of the step on to the sidewalk. This theater was on Coventry Rd., which tends to be very active, especially on weekends. So rehearsal ends, I’m the last one out, and because I am me, I am terrified after I turn the lights out downstairs, so I run up the stairs to the foyer. Picture, if you will, me wearing a backpack and carrying a large binder, clutched to my chest with both arms across it. I come bursting out the door because, obviously, I’m running from the monsters in the basement. In my terror, I forgot to step down. What I did instead was somehow stop hurl myself out the door, step forward, and end with both feet on the edge of the step down. Then I fell forward, stiff as a board, arms still clutching my binder, flat on to my face. Did I mention this particular street is extremely busy on weekends, and this was a Friday night? Needless to say, I attracted a lot of attention. My arms were bleeding, my face was bleeding and I was laying with my face on the cement and my binder and arms tucked under me. Some well meaning people came running over to see if I was ok, but that just mortified me even more. I bounced up like I was fine and said “I’m so sorry, oh my gosh, I am just so sorry” and they said “Are you alright??? Don’t be sorry! You’re bleeding!” and I said “Oh, I do that a lot, I’m sorry. My car is over there” and then I bolted towards my car. Actually, bolted is the wrong word. I stumbled blindly towards my car.
After that incident, I didn’t have anything major happen other than my usual trips and stumbles…until…Notre Dame College. I was walking from one building to another, texting AJ, which I should know better than to do. I have enough trouble walking without distractions. I should have seen this coming. But I didn’t. A speed bump tripped me, and again, I fell flat on my face. My phone went flying and shattered into pieces. My face was, once again, bleeding. My nose, my cheek, my forehead, my chin – there was probably some gravel in there, too. And then, because I was stupid enough to stick my arms out to catch myself, my wrists bent in ways they are unable to bend, and then skidded on the pavement, resulting in more blood and shards of gravel. After this one, I leapt up, grabbed the remnants of my phone, and kept walking. Not a single person stopped to see if I was ok! I mean, I’m glad they didn’t, but they should have! So I got to class, completely stunned still, and announced “I just bit it like you wouldn’t believe in the parking lot” while I stood there bleeding from my face and arms. I sat through class like that.
I think I have a picture from that time. It’s after my face was healed a little (maybe three days after the parking lot tried to kill me), so you can’t quite get the dramatic blood pouring off my face thing, but I’ll post it so you have an idea. Oh, and somehow my lips were swollen and bloody, too. I hate thinking that I rubbed my lips on gravel.