How To Not Life

Clumsy Me: Halloween Edition

Honestly, I have always been pretty clumsy. I don't know why. I guess the floor is just attracted to me? Anyway, one of my first clumsy times happened in 1st grade.

Marine Guy decided to throw a Halloween party at his house. It was a huge thing. Our School hated Halloween they beolieved it was the Devil's Holiday. Therefore, they would hand out even more homework (coloring and writing pages) on Halloween to discourage trick or treating. This logic continued on for the my whole time at Paran on the Mount. It got even worse in High school with you getting a stern talking to if you ever posted pictures of yourself going out on Halloween.

Anyway, I digress. Marine Guy had to be super sneaky. A week before Halloween he enlisted my help to hand out little flyers his Mom made for his Halloween party. We almost got caught when he was handing my extra flyers to hand out. However, Marine Guy just lied and said he was giving me a love letter. The teacher immediately smiled and went, "Ah young love" and left it at that.

The night of the aprty everyone dressed up. I went as Hannah Montana dressed in a blonde wig and sunglasses and some kind of ensemble of jeans and a shirt. The party was fun there was drinks and food but the real fun was in the garage. Marine Guy had a huge garage since his parents were rich (private school remember). Each of his parents had cars they took to work, cars for hunting/hiking, and then just fun cars. Needless to say he had a huge garage. His parents ended up taking all the cars out and setting up a Haunted House.

I dont remember much about the Haunted House but they had black curtains to form hallways and rooms so you could not see ahead. Marine Guy begged me to join him and went into the Haunted house. I immediately ran after him.

I got six steps into the Haunted House before I stepped on a wig and went flying. (Think of someone in cartoons who slip on a banana peel that was me with a wig). I ended up landing hard on the concrete surface on my left arm. I cried out in pain causing Marine Guy to come running back for me. He saw me and help me up (basically carry me back to my father. My dad took me to a night clinic where I was proclaimed to have broken my arm. I got a cast and went on my way.

Next day at school, I was a hero having survived my trying ordeal. Everyone wanted to sign my cast. I was a celebrity.

A couple weeks later. I skipped school in the morning to go get my cast off. My arm was good as new. I went back to school just in time for Recess. I was excited to play around with my friends and not worry about my arm. However, this did not last very long.

At the end of recess I was hanging out in front of the swings. Soon the teacher blew a whistle meaning we all had ot line up (in alphabetical order I might add). As I turned around to leave, some guy ended up jumping off the swing at its max height. He came landing down... on me. He ended up landing on my newly uncasted arm. Once again I screamed out in pain. Once again I went to the doctor. And for the second time, I had broken my arm and needed to get another cast.