About Me

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I spend the majority of my time on campus, either in class or busy with other things going on. In my spare time, I like to write short stories and novels. I'm majoring in Communications at the University of Delaware.

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I would be pleased to review any books, whether they be advance copies or old ones. If you would like me to review a book, feel free to email me at ashley2055@gmail.com or leave a comment on any of my posts.

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Ashley C. Nicole-2011. Powered by Blogger.


February 11, 2012

Falling All Over Myself

Lately, I’ve been more clumsy than ever. As in, falling in mud or bringing down a whole shelf of my closet. As for the mud incident, it’s happened twice.

In public.

I run. I slip. My feet go up. My butt goes down. Mud embeds itself into my skin and clothes. Truly tragic, I tell you. The shelf issue wasn’t really all that bad. I just managed to fall sideways off of my stool in my closet, and the shelf did not want to support. (The wall didn’t want to support the shelf, either. I think we all are in need of a better support system.)

So, what’s the point to this rambling? Well, I hope you can work a scene like one of those into your story for comic relief. Or have your character trip up the steps in a school of 2,000 people that are always moving, always going places. (I was fine, of course. Just a bit pink in the face.)

The other point to this, though, is to bring up embarrassment. In life, we’re all faced with times when we trip (and fall) or spill something down our shirt on our way to the bus stop and we’re forced to explain it all day. I think, what matters more than the actual event, is how we choose to handle it.

Example 1: When I slipped and fell in mud for the first time, I was at a carnival that was bursting with people. I was chasing my friend one moment, and the next, I was on the ground with my jaw dropped. It hadn’t even rained in weeks, and yet there was a lovely mud puddle for me to fall right into. I got up, walked over to my friend, sat down next to her on the curb and refused to leave until my mom pulled up in front of us half an hour later.

Was that the right thing to do? Probably not, but it felt like it. It felt safer than walking around with my shorts glued to my butt with mud.


Example 2: When the mud took me the second time, I was on a retreat with my church. I was with the same friend as before, and we were outside for “free time”. When she went over to sit down on a bench, I followed. It was muddy, so I tried to hop over to her to not get my shoes dirty. I fell, of course. I was on the ground, soaked in muddy water. And you know what I did? I laughed until I couldn’t breathe. I laughed until tears were streaming down my face, because I knew there was no use in getting up and running.

Was that better than example 1? I’d like to think so. I didn’t feel the burning embarrassment as much. It was easier to laugh, too. Laughing’s healthy for people.


So, yeah. I just rambled about how klutzy I am for a few paragraphs, but the message is simple. Laugh at yourself before other people get the chance to. It leads to less embarrassment on your part, less awkwardness after, and you’ll be happy if you’re laughing.


P.S. How do you like the new layout? The new theme? My new signature?