falling over you

so, let me set the scene:
i am wearing my favoritist pink dress coat, the single-breasted one with cabbage roses printed on the lining, the one that gets me muy compliments wherever I go, the one that makes me feel pretty. i am also wearing a slate-ish blue bridesmaid dress, purposely hemmed to the floor. it's strapless and has a fairly big, swishy skirt. underneath my dress (i know, this is getting interesting, right?) i'm wearing mary jane tennis shoes from sketchers and knee-high stirrup softball socks (i know, may-juh letdown). i have on my ginormous mittens, which are brown leather on the outside and sheepskin on the inside (so warm, you wouldn't believe). i'm scooting along, fast as i can, becasue despite my socks—which were a wardrobe requirement for my sporty friends who had just married—it's frostbite city outside. it's about 30 below with the windchill, and the wind is blowing. william is behind me about twenty feet, carrying a big heavy bag which contains (but doesn't contain very well) our wedding present for the couple. he's carrying in from the bottom, becuase the present was so heavy, the handles broke long ago. we're about a half block from the reception site. i can feel my satin skirt getting icy, rapidly.
a gust of wind blows, and william says, fairly panicked, "babe! the tissue paper!"
i whip around, to see all the tissue paper he packed into the bag, blowing over his head, obscuring his face and floating behind him. as i whip around, my skirt wraps around my legs. because of the tone of his voice, i overestimated the importance of this incident.
against my better judgment, i take about two steps, at which point i realize: you should not have done that. and i know, without a doubt, i am falling down. but you know, there's this weird involuntary brain thing that happens when you are about to fall down, in which you know, your body will do anything to keep you upright. so i take at least three awkwardly huge steps, pounding each one harder, before i sail to the ground. sail is actually far too graceful a word. although william says from his vantage point, i looked like a ball player, diving for home plate, with stirrup socks clearly visible.
and i slid. do you know how i remember?
my coat. my coat is covered in dirt. gross parking lot frozen-over mud puddle and exhaust-frosted dirt. i can tell my arms were slightly bent when i hit the pavement because it's painted on where the wrinkles come up around the elbows. also because my left arm has been hurting ever since. i can now raise it above my head, but it is almost wednesday.
i don't know if pink coat is going to make it. we'll see what the dry cleaner has to say. otherwise i might be in the market for a new coat.
surprisingly i only have two bruises, one on my elbow and an ugly one on my knee. you'd think i'd have more, considering sometimes i bruise just glancing off the coffee table.
let me tell you, i laughed like hell. falling down is one of the funniest things ever to me, as long as everyone survives without broken bones. but i won't lie, my first instinct is to laugh. every time, unless it's an elderly person. i could not stop laughing. i popped up quickly, according to william. and he said, not unlike his first comment, "babe! it's ONLY tissue paper!" he asked if i was okay, but i couldn't even respond due to my laughter and trying to continue to scoot inside. once i was moving again, i noticed my skirt was scuffed up! people kept trying to brush it off all night, but no, i took the color off it.
no, i had not been drinking yet.
it didn't hurt me too much on the dance floor.

me and bride:


ostensibly laughing about falling yet again: