A Wonderful, WET, Sarah Grace Christmas Moment

A huge Christmas attraction here in Nashville is the Opryland Hotel's Christmas lights. Scott and I decided to check it out the night before Christmas Eve.

The hotel itself is a sight to see, with or without Christmas decorations. It is HUGE:

A large portion of it is an indoor garden with a river inside; we even saw people on a little boat tour. 

 

 

Our evening was lovely and almost ended without a hitch. 

We saw lovely trees, some even made from poinsettias, a nativity out front and LOTS of lights. 

We decided - unfortunately - to take one last stroll through the indoor garden. 

We rounded a corner and saw this lovely gazebo that I snapped a picture of: 

I noticed that couple with the man trying to take his wife's picture. As we passed them, I asked if they would like me to take their photo. The wife eagerly said, "Yes! Thank you." 

Well, as it is said: no good deed goes unpunished! 

I took one photo, no problem. 

However, I realized I didn't get the top of the gazebo in the shot so I said I would take one more picture to get the full picture. 

I didn't think to look behind me before I took a step back... right into the little river behind me. 

Yes. I fell in!?! 

Fortunately, it was only like 2 and a half feet deep and once I got my feet under me, I didn't panic but hopped right back out. 

My main focus was to NOT drop their phone in with me. By a miracle, I didn't drop their phone or mine or my jacket in the water. 

However, my entire hiney and both my legs were soaked. Scott wasn't too embarrassed to take a picture of me after ;) 

This is the little part of the river that I fell in: 

My bum hit the bricks of that little island where the plants were. Pictured below is the stain left on the backside of my bluejeans. Not pictured is the dark purple bruise left on my bum. 

The lady felt awful and they said they saw it coming but not in time to warn me, and felt awful. Scott saw it coming too but he thought I would look back to see where I was stepping or would take a smaller step and be able to catch myself. But, no, I took a huge step back, right into the river. 

The look on that lady's face was pretty priceless. I told her not to worry, that this sort of thing happened to me all the time; I even told her my nickname is Sarah Grace. Scott said that he felt more uncomfortable and embarrassed for her because he knew I did this often but she clearly felt bad. 

We laughed it off and wished each other a merry Christmas before parting ways, both with a great photo and story! 

I was just grateful I wasn't really hurt and hadn't ruined either of our phones... and that the lights were dimmed so the whole hotel couldn't see my soaking wet pants as we had a long walk back to the exit of that ginormous hotel. 

It was cold outside so we rushed home to get me out of my soaking bottoms so we could slip into warm pjs and then we warmed up with some delicious hot cocoa! 

It was a cold, wet Christmas memory and I learned my lesson the hard way but now I know to look behind me before I take my next picture ;) 

Merry Christmas from Sarah Grace! 

I Should Have Been Called Grace: Then at least it could be funny and ironic when I trip/drop things

During Orientation the summer before Freshman year, I got a sheet of the 'Top 50 Things to Do While at CofC.' One of the things on that list was "to go a day without tripping on those damn bricks" as our campus is covered in unevenly settled bricks.

With barely a week remaining of my Junior year, I have yet to accomplish that.

But tripping on the bricks is nothing to me anymore... I don't even get embarrassed or look around when it happens. I just keep trucking on, well-aware of the fact that I am klutzy.

Today, however, I have really outdone myself - far beyond stumbling on bricks:

1)  My laundry was over-flowing so I had a ton to carry back from the laundry room (not located in my building). In my impatience to get finished so I could start studying, I decided I could carry ALL of my stuff back in one load.

I could not.

Both arms were loaded down: t-shirts piled up right below my chin, a jacket laid strategically over my panties and bras that were not even folded but, in my rush, simply wrapped into one of my towels, tucked below the t-shirts. [Yes, I think you know where this is going].

My clothes were piled so high that I could not even see my keys as I played a guessing game trying to insert the correct one into my front door. Just as I found the right one and twisted the key, that movement caused my entire load of FRESHLY-washed laundry to tumble like an avalanche from my arms... panties, socks, gym shorts, t-shirts spilling onto the ground at my doorstep.

What could make this worse, you ask?

An audience.

Not just any audience but an audience of grown men. They had been working in my front yard all morning and had been staring at me as I ran back and forth with dirty clothes, detergent and dryer sheets (hence, the need for my jacket to be strategically placed over my undergarments as a shield from their lingering looks).

Oh yes. They looked on as I, red in the face, scrambled to gather all of my clothes and get inside.

You would think this act was good enough embarrsament for one day, but no, it seems I had not met my klutziness quota quite yet...

2) My second graceful act of the day came as I was walking down a lovely Charleston street to meet a friend of mine to study. I had my bookbag thrown over one shoulder and was just enjoying the sunshine and flowers when I spotted a very attractive guy on the sidewalk about 30 feet in front of me.

A wonderful surprise. I planned on flashing my pearly whites and waving, just keeping it cool. NOTE: I am not good at being cool, especially when I try ;)

When he was no more than five feet in front of me, I could see up close that he was even more attractive... tall, beautiful blue eyes, fit.

If this were a romantic movie, there would have been a catchy love song playing in the background and we would meet and begin our "happily ever after."

But in my life, it always seems that I am in romantic comedies... or maybe just comedies ;)

We were just about to pass each other when I came up by a bicycle locked to a parking meter. One of the straps of my bookbag snagged the bike's handlebars and jerked it off my shoulder, awkwardly whipping me back towards the bike. This killed all coolness or any attempt to smile or wave.

There went that "happily ever after."

Red in the face yet again, I busied myself untangling my bookbag from the bike as Mr. Beautiful walked on by, probably grateful my back was turned so he didn't have to hide a smirk at my mishap.

I am the Queen of Klutzy moments!

I should have been called Grace: Then at least it could be funny and ironic when I trip/drop things...