Have a Nice Trip

Because I am competitive by nature (and also- kind of a bitch) every morning I engage in a death-match race with a stupid little (what I can only assume is a) Russian (accent) girl to get to the lone one-seater on the top level of the train. Although it is childish and largely one-sided, I can’t help but feel victorious when I settle into my own little seat that I will not have to share with another commuter, stretch my legs out and look out of my own window to face the day ahead.

The best thing about this seat is that it is right by the stairs to the lower deck, so I am usually one of the first ones off the train and do not have to fight through masses of angry Jersey-ians to get up the elevator and into Penn Station. Today, however, I discovered another benefit to sitting right by the stairs when a young, boyishly handsome man made eyes with me as he was getting off the train- and then fell down the stairs.

What made this particular fall epic, however, was that as he was falling down the stairs he sang a song about falling down the stairs.

Yes- a song. Well, more of a little ditty. It went something like this: “ahh ahh I’m fall-ing down the stairs”. (Sing in ditty form).

Now, I am no stranger to falling. In fact, I fall once a week and tripped twice on the way to work this morning (new shoes). I fall so often that I have actually become good at it and when people see me fall for the first time they often comment on how graceful I am. I don’t fall so much as slide elegantly toward the ground at inappropriate moments and inconvenient places. Its something I am sort of proud of- like my useless knowledge of the American Revolution or ability to remember the names of my nail polishes (“Big Apple Red” this week- thanks, OPI).

I am also no stranger to epic falls. Last summer, during orientation, I got into the first of what would be many fight with Terrible Tom of the Oppressive Office of Co-Curricular Programs at Loyola. Terrible Tom fucked up my life hardcore that semester by completely disregarding any conversations or plans I had responsibly made with the OOCCP the prior semester AND then had the nerve to call AKPsi nationals and essentially tell on me (in case you are reading this Tom, even they thought you were a huge douche). We met the first day or orientation and by the last we were already glaring at each other across the quad and would continue glaring until I graduated. But, Tom unwittingly got his revenge, or more accurately, I handed him his revenge on a silver platter- when I emerged from the school bus transporting the orientation leaders and freshman to our own alcohol-free night at Venue (LOL) wearing an adorable black dress and my Marc Jacobs heels . When I say “emerged”, I mean “ate it hard down the stairs and landed spread eagle on the bottom step”. And, the piece de resistance of the epic nature of the tumble- Terrible Tom was standing right there, helping girls in their heels get off the bus. He was so close that if I were a less graceful fall-er, I surely would have landed right on him.

So anyway, long story short- I fall a lot. And I think if I could sing while falling, it would really add some flavor to the routine. I mean, I already have the physical aspect down, so really the only thing left is musical accompaniment. Sometimes, I involuntarily shout “FALLING!”, but that’s about as advanced as I get. So now I have to get to work on doing some serious composing. And, taking into account that a fall usually happens in less than 10 seconds, it will take considerable time and talent.

Sometimes I am amazed by my continual evolvement.