The Fact that I am the Biggest Stupid-Head in the World Just Means I Always Have Something to Laugh About


Stupid-Head Story Number One

I've been knitting with a great group for the past few months. They're warm, smart, fun. And they seem to like me. This weekend, one of this group is celebrating her 30th birthday and invited us all over for brunch.

I was really pleased that Robb would get to meet this group of people, (particularly the Birthday Girl). But we were having a bad morning. Robb had tried to do to many things the day before (yet another appearance in court, therapeutic swimming, and and errands) and his body was rebelling. He was in a lot of discomfort.

I was sort of hopping up and down, trying to will him into health and sociability, and generally being a big spaz, while he tossed and turned on the couch, trying to find any comfortable position. Finally, an hour after I thought the brunch was supposed to start, I called the Birthday Girl to apologize for being late to her party.


She was still in her PJs, and hadn't even thought about breakfast.

I had failed to read the invitation correctly, and failed to apprehend the fact that the party was TOMORROW.

This wouldn't be so bad -- embarrassing sure -- if it weren't for the fact that this the SECOND TIME I've done this on a friend's birthday.

I am a Stupid-Head.

Stupid-Head Story Number Two

Robb has been working out in the YMCA's therapy pool for over a year, and in addition to doing strengthening exercises, he's been swimming laps. He only swims with his arms, and he's gotten quite strong.

I've been a member of the Y for most of this time (we suspended my membership when I had hepatitis and could barely find the energy to get through the day), but I've hardly used the facilities at all. I finally decided to stop squandering my gym membership, and I signed up for a swimming class.

I love being in water, however I'm a pretty spazzy swimmer. I thought that the time had come to learn some proper technique. Thursday evening was my second class. I got there in plenty of time and even bought myself some goggles. And then I realized that I had failed to pack my bathing suit bottom.

I totally freaked out. All of my gym-class insecurities came rushing back. I had no business inside of a state of the art gym. I was a klutz and a dork, and let's face it, I really was the kid picked last for every single team in gym class. (Why do gym teachers let this humiliating ritual persist?) I was so miserable at volleyball, that my team would opt to forfeit the point, rather than even allowing me to attempt serving the ball.

Yeah, I think I've grown up and exorcised all my childhood demons, but apparently they've still got the power to torment me.

I called Robb from the sidewalk, in a tizzy. He insisted that I stay put, and that he could get the pants to me in fifteen minutes. I could still take my class. He refused to take "no" for an answer.

I sat in the stairs of the Y, and knitted and stewed in my juices. I'm a disorganized scatterbrain who will never get her act together. I'm a klutz and a geek, and even though I've probably cycled SIX HUNDRED MILES since Robb's accident, beginning cyclists dismiss me as not being a "real bike person." (I'm not kidding. This happened on Tuesday. Jerk.)

It was a bad fifteen minutes.

But Robb saved the day by driving by and tossing panties out his car window, and the class went pretty well. I'm a horribly goofy swimmer, but I'm learning a lot.

I was feeling happy and confident as I walked to my car.

Until I felt something fluttering on my shoulder.

I had been walking down the street in downtown Berkeley with bright turquoise bikini bottoms flapping wildly out of my bag.

Crikey! I'm Such a Stupid-Head!


Syndee said…
Lisa, Thanks for sharing your stupid-head stories. I, too, had those same gym issues-picked last, totally spastic, and out on medical for my knees, thumb, etc... I am thoroughly amazed at my daughter's atheletic abilities, knowing she has half my genes! I've also been known to go to school with two different colored shoes (same style-just different colors), and forget items/things to do just minutes after I've thought of them. Is senility setting in at 42?
Oh, man! I've done the two different shoes thing. And it was Robb's mom who pointed this embarrassing fact out to me, because I was too oblivious to notice.

In my defense, I was at their cabin, and was wearing black pumps on very uneven terrain.

And, uh, all my shoes look exactly like all my shoes. I think I own four styles of shoes. Dansko closed back clogs, seriously bad-assed black clompy boots, witchy black pumps, and weird-colored little sneakery shoes for cycling.
Anonymous said…
So if I went to introduce my husband to my new boss and couldn't for the life of him remember his name, does that make me a stupid-head too? "Hi, I'm Helen and I'm a Stupid-Head."
=) Wild Rose
That depends. Did you forget your boss's name or your husbands?
Anonymous said…
I guess that is hard to understand. Which would make me more of a Stupid-Head? LOL
Actually, it was my husbands. We've only been married 7 years, after all. I could hardly be expected to remember his name, right?!
=) Wild Rose
Ok, we obviously were living parallel lives in gym class, as your experience was the exact same as mine. I hated gym. Every single minute.

Fast forward about 25 years..... My son, with his autism, has motor skills issues - add that to the fact that he doesn't have a great genetic base to draw on..... he's terrible at PE. When he was in second grade, I quizzed him about PE and found he couldn't do anything that the PE teacher was asking them to do. I put on my Mama Tiger suit, and demanded a meeting with the PE teacher, determined to defend my young, and rescue him from the throes of this horrific situation (note: the PE teacher is about 15 years younger than me, and looks like he just stepped off the cover of GQ - like I'm not intimidated enough to begin with...). When I get done with my "rant" and explanation, and stop tossing Eli's OT and PT reports around the room, Mr. GQ PE teacher says "Thanks for coming to see me, I've been able to pair Eli up with kids of similar abilities, I appreciate the information in the reports, and the adaptive PE class would not be a good place for him, he's much better off where he is." I blink and sniffle "But he's gonna be the last kid picked for teams........" The teacher looked at me and said "Uh - we've progressed past that in current PE curriculums."

Thank goodness! So that's my Stupid Head story - stop assuming and start listening ;-)) And as a follow up - the PE teacher and I got to work on a committee together, became friends, and he asked me to write a reference for him when he was investigating a new job.
km said…
WOW. It's so reassuring to me that the people I think of as being adroit in all things are stupid-heads sometimes too. It also gives me hope that someday I can be one of the ten people in LA to ride a bike to set. (Once I remember how to ride a bike again)
Lyn said…
You are a human-head. And awesome. Thanks for sharing your stories so fearlessly.
Anonymous said…
Nah, you're not a stupid-head, just human. I forgot my entire bathing suit while going to the pool with Mickey, and instead of going home & getting it, I bailed & went prop shopping. Productive, but not healthy or as satisfying. I'm glad you're having fun in the water!

--Mel B in B'more
Anonymous said…
Once I walked around my college campus with a pair of underwear hanging out of my back pocket. It's not as bad as it sounds -- I had been packing that morning, found it in the clean laundry but my bags were already in the car, so I stuck it in my back pocket, rode 1.5 hours to the campus, took all my bags and boxes to the dorm room, ran into a guy I totally crushed on in high school and still had it bad for... all this time with my undies hanging out my back pocket. (No, it didn't win me a date with him either. That actually would have made it worthwhile!) Stupid-headed-ness seems to follow me in every stage of life. It must be my destiny.

Don't feel bad.
Anonymous said…
Stop calling yourself names woman! :P Calling yourself these names only makes them true.

Now I have to share my "i'm a worse clutz than you" stories.

I have broken my ankle and dislocated my left knee (seperate times) by walking. Not even tripping, but rather just randomly loosing balance & falling over & really hurting myself.

I once stood up to get off the "john" must have lost my balance or something, dislocated my right knee & slammed into the door. This was a small bathroom mind you, & the parametics were called, & I sat there crying as young, good looking medics tried to get me off the john & onto the stretcher all while keeping my knee at a 90* angel. Thankfully I had remembered to pull up my undies before they came. Unfortunately, pulling up the pants was not an option.

I hope you giggled & feel a little bit better about your clutziness. I was always picked last for gym class too, and I could never climb the rope either.

We are women now & honestly, who needs to climb that rope anyways? :P
I've dislocated my knee just by standing in a parking lot.


Came back on crutches and never got to ski.
Anonymous said…
Lisa, Hy husband and I were one month early for a meeting the other night (10-10) - the meeting is in November on the 10th! oh well- a good laugh was had by all-
Happy Birthday to your friend- who is so important to you that you were going to be 24 hours early for her party!
Anonymous said…
Now I know why I like you so much!!!

Anonymous said…
Oh, I am so glad somebody else had the same horrible gym class experiences that I did! Volleyball was indeed, the worst. I remember one time when a volleyball from another game halfway across the gym, came flying at me. It hit me in the face, broke my glasses, and knocked me over! Not only that, but I'm pretty sure I left crying!
Anonymous said…
Ahem... well, having someone toss panties out of a moving car at my head would definately qualify as blog-fodder.

Glad Robb sticks with the swimming class and bike riding, as the panty-tossing will probably get his butt arrested. No matter HOW welcome!

Anonymous said…
Lisa, I am also a spaz. My mother used to say I would trip over a leaf.

Two years ago Phil and I went to our friend's New Year's party and I went hot tubbing and misplaced my underpants. Phil was quite put out at me, and when I told my sister Brigid and she said "Oh, Jennifer!"

Actually, at 65, I was rather proud of myself.

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