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Crystal is a major klut-zo! The magic that is me, pt. 2

August 20, 2006
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Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a little girl who had a horrible malady. Her feet didn’t work.

Well, that’s not completely true. The girl’s feet worked most of the time. But now and then the feet would fail her. When this happened she would tumble to the ground.

The worst part of this strange affliction was that her feet would stop working suddenly, and for no apparent reason.

The girl learned to live with her quirk, and she didn’t even think that it was such a big deal until she started spending more time with others.

Many of the others were cruel and the more the little girl fell the more the others would laugh.
It was then that the girl became ashamed that her feet didn’t work.

So, I’m sure you can guess by the title of this article that I’m the girl whose feet don’t always work.

More than that, I’m pretty sure my eyes don’t work, and I’m starting to realize that I have absolutely no sense for distances.

This mysterious combination of bad feet, poor eyesight, and distance issues culminate into a hard truth that has haunted me for most of my life; I am a klutz!

I look like a normal person for the most part. I even move like a normal person most of the time.
However, I am part of an elite group of special people who have absolutely no sense of how their bodies move or where their bodies are in relation to the rest of the world.

As a result, I find bruises with mysterious origins. I run into stationary objects. I trip over my own feet at least once a day. To top it all off, I’ve broken my nose several times.

All inanimate objects of the world must beware! Even houses.

That’s right houses. See, I am not your garden variety klutz. I don’t just trip over things that are below my line of sight.

Oh no, I am a rare breed. I run into things like walls and…well mostly walls. I clip them with my shoulders and I hit them with my knees. I even hit walls with my face from time to time.

Some days my life has more slapstick in it than a Three Stooges episode.

For a long time I thought this particular malady of mine would forever separate me from the rest of the world. I was even certain that no man would have me for fear that I would accidentally harm him.

Then my entire perception was changed. I met a man who thought that my klutziness was cute. Charming even. At first I thought he was a little cuckoo and I just thanked God for this sweet boy’s altered perception of reality.

But I thought it odd that he found my affliction so adorable. So odd in fact that I spoke to some of my friends about it. It turns out they all liked my klutziness too!

So, I kept dating him and I let him kiss my little bruises each time the klutziness stuck.
I guess sometimes the things we hate most about ourselves — the most embarrassing aspects of our character — are the things that others find most endearing about us.

In fact, my klutziness is one of my sister’s favorite things about me. Probably because her favorite type of comedy is slapstick. Every time I fall, trip or hit something she tells me she loves me.

She always laughs too. But I’ve learned to laugh with her, and my klutziness has become an integral part of the magic that is me.

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