Awkward Girl Falls Down

Part of being awkward is being clumsy, and that means that I trip, stumble, and bang into things on a daily basis. Going up the stairs, going down the stairs, walking while texting, walking while paying attention, it’s all bad. That being said, my main mode of transportation around campus is actually a long-board. I know, shocking. I’m honestly quite amazed at myself as well; how I even manage to ride around every day with killing myself is a miracle.

Sadly, it was only a matter of time before my clumsiness and my long boarding would collide. Here I will retell exactly how it did, will full and excessive detail:

I am cruising down the side walk, it is a beautiful day. Not quite noon yet, not too warm, I got to sleep in, haven’t been to class yet, feeling good. I’m picking up speed, enjoying not having to push as much. I glide by my peers, nodding my head slightly, feeling confident in my skills.

I approach a sharp right hand turn, access the situation, and note my options. I know that I can make the turn, no problem, but the process is complicated by the fact that I will have to cross the bike path. This means two things: one, I have to be aware of potential threats from oncoming bikers, and two, I have to navigate over the hellish yellow bumps that line the crossings that I’m pretty sure were designed by Satan himself.

Having taken all of this into consideration, I decide that it is best to slow down before making the turn, so I deploy my foot brake. It is as I am dragging my foot on the ground that the god of Awkwardness decides to intervene. I’m pretty sure he thought that I was doing too well, and feeling too confidant, and decided to knock me down a peg, reminding me of place. It was his intervention that somehow sent me flying into the air.

Next thing I know I am slamming into the ground, hitting my right knee on the concrete and then falling sideways into the dirt. While this may have been a blessing in disguise, the chunks of black dirt that got dumped down the back of my pants only added insult to injury. And then of course everyone within a mile’s radius comes running over. Seeing this, I quickly hop up, assuring the concerned citizens that, “I’m fine. Really I’m fine.” I grab my board and hurry away.

I don’t assess the damage until I am safely back in my room. I look at the knee that took most of the fall, and see a bloody mess peeking through my torn jeans. My initial reaction is anger, as I am very upset that I tore one of my favorite pair of jeans. It’s only as the adrenaline begins to wear off that I realize I banged myself up pretty badly. I take my pants off, spilling dirt everywhere, and hobble to the bathroom to clean it off. I call my pre-med friend, who is luckily able to bandage me up, and long story short, I spend the next two weeks hobbling around, a constant reminder of my glorious awkwardness.

If anyone asked, I told them that I got into a longboarding accident. Unfortunately, when they would then ask for more details, I would have to embarrassingly reply, “I just fell down.”

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Awkward Merit Badges

Awkward Merit Badges

Found this gem on Pinterest. Pretty sure I have earned almost all of these at one point. What about you?

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Awkward Girl Goes Out–Part 3

The Party

After finally getting dressed, doing my hair, and makeup, it was time to go out. I gave myself a little pep talk, took some deep breaths, and headed to my car. Before I went to the party, I needed to go to the grocery store, because it’s rude to go to a party without bringing anything, right? Well, that is what my dad always taught me. And to be honest, when you are as awkward as me, “not showing up empty handed” isn’t so much about not bringing something for the host, as it is about having something to occupy your hands with or else you won’t know what to do with them. Does that ever happen to you? You are just like walking somewhere, or standing, and you suddenly become aware that your arms are in the most ridiculous and random position. Like one is bent and one is straight, as if you are about to do the Mr. Robato dance. Well when I arrived at the party my arms were safely filled with a chilly box of microwaveable taquitos. Mr. Robato arms—0, Awkward Girl—1.

I knock on the door, and brace myself for the noisy booze fest that is about to greet me. The door cracks, and I reflexively hold my breath, and I’m pretty sure I grimaced a little bit. But what met me instead was the smiling face of my friend, and the quiet sound of the Oscar’s playing in the background. I entered the house and realized I was one of about five people there. There was pizza, fritos, and chocolate covered strawberries.

What? Are you surprised? You really shouldn’t be. You think Awkward Girl would have really been invited to a crazy party? Hah! No. I myself was pleasantly surprised, because this was way more up my alley. I kicked my boots off, piled my plate high with fritos and guacamole, and claimed a spot on the couch. There I sat for the rest of the evening, munching on snacks, gazing dreamily at Leonardo Dicaprio, and singing along with Idina Menzel while trying to hide my passion for Frozen from my peers.

So despite all my worrying, and all the trouble I had gone to, I actually had a nice evening with my friends. I suppose there is solidarity in awkwardness. 

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Awkward Girl Goes Out–Part 2

Getting Ready

To begin, I stood in front of my closet for a solid five minutes, just staring at my clothes, thinking to myself, “What about that? No. Or what about that? No. Definitely no.” And then I try stuff on, and take it off, again and again until there is a large pile of clean clothes on the floor that you know is just not going to get picked up. I try on skirts. I then I ask myself, “Why do you even own skirts?” Then, “Maxi skirts are classy, right? Right?” After that I tell myself that perhaps a dress would look better. So I put a dress on. The low cut makes me feel a little uncomfortable, so I pull it up. But then I think that its much too short, so I pull it down again, then back up a smidge, then down a tad, then I resort to pulling it in opposite directions at the same time hoping that it will magically stretch, or perhaps transform into a perfectly flattering gown that makes me look like a super model and injects Christina Aguilera confidence into me. And when that surprisingly doesn’t happen, I pull it off.

I then talk myself into believing that jeans are classy, because apparently Awkward Girl can’t feel comfortable in anything that isn’t made of denim. Then, thirty minutes, a massive pile of clothes, and a few tears later, I finally decide on a shapely but modest sweater, jeans, and boots. I feel relieved, and possibly, maybe, look kind of classy.

Okay, now time for hair and makeup. I decide that if I didn’t really dress up very much, I could compensate with some glamour hair and make-up and call it good. At this point I was feeling pretty good about the hours I had wasted on Pinterest, and was about to put my skills to the test! Or so I thought.

First, I decided to curl my hair. Of course I couldn’t do it the easy way though, with my easy to use curling wand—no I needed to do it the hard way. With my straightener. Because that is how you get beautiful, soft, movie-star curls; according to the internet. Turns out using your straightener as a curler takes a lot more coordination than Awkward Girl is capable of. Well, an hour later, with multiple burns on my fingers, ears, and somehow nose, my hair was “curled”. I’m pretty sure one side was considerably curlier than the other, and there may or may not have been a large section that I missed, but all that aside, I think I can chalk this one up as a success!

But I wasn’t done yet, I still had to do my makeup. The worst part of all. Damn Pinterest had convinced me that I could use that liquid eyeliner I bought months ago and never use to make the most perfect cat eyes. I should have learned my lesson with the hair, but of course I didn’t. The first sign should have been my body’s reaction; it was as if it knew I was trying something that only non-awkward people can pull off and was like, “Whoa there! What are you trying to do?” If you don’t believe me when I say this, the vigorous twitching of my eye as I hovered the liquid eye liner applicator ever so delicately above my lid should be enough to convince you. All I have to say is thank god for makeup remover wipes. I’m pretty sure I burned through a whole pack of those babies. But, after that, and being half-blinded by the toxic black liquid that kept finding its way into my eye, I was pretty sure I had managed to pull off a not half bad job. (continued in part 3)

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Awkward Girl Goes Out–Part 1

Getting Invited

Being awkward, I don’t make a point to go to very many parties. Which is funny, because the college I attend has one the most notorious party-school reputations, but, nonetheless, I don’t get out very much. What I find most sad about my lack of a social life is that because I live in the dorms, I can’t even own a cat. Because owning a cat would at least justify me not having a social life. But sadly, no cat. Instead I prefer to stay inside, peruse Pinterest, binge watch Netflix, or play videogames.

All that being said, tonight, I actually went to a party. GASP! For the sake of honesty, I must admit though that when I agreed to go to said party, I had no idea that alcohol or drinking games, or any of that business would be involved. A very close friend of mine invited me over to her place to watch the Oscar’s. Seemed harmless enough, right? And being the recluse that I am, I thought, “Wouldn’t it be nice to go out for once?” And so I agreed.

A few days later I get the invite on Facebook, and the gravity of my mistake settles in. Almost 50 people had been invited to this gathering (with that many people, can it even be called a gathering any more? How intimate can this gathering be with 50 drunk, loud college kids crammed into a tiny apartment? Sounds to me more like the opening scene in a horror flick, or something straight out of The Walking Dead). On top of that, the event info specified that “drank” would be available (and while I’m making a habit out of side notes, why is it that people now a days are so obsessed with purposefully having bad grammar? I think I’m the only one still awkwardly using periods in my text messages). But the part that really got me, was “classy as fuck dress is always appreciated.”

Awkward girl never looks “classy as fuck”. Awkward girl maybe occasionally looks “pretty nice as fuck,” and more often than not looks “borrowed this from my grandma….as fuck?” But at this point, there was no going back. I had committed to attending this party, and while I may be awkward, I am also stubborn. It was while getting ready for this evening that I had one of my classic “wow! You are so awkward!” moments. (continued in part 2)

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Awkward Girl Introduces Herself

Hello! I am Awkward Girl, and this is my blog. As I go through life, I am constantly reminded of how awkward I can be, but I have decided to document all of those glorious moments, and retell them to you here. My goal is only to make you laugh, and keep you entertained, but if, along the way, you begin to feel more confident with your own awkwardness, all the better. My blog will not give you advice, or present any witty social commentary, I am simply writing about my daily adventures as a down-to-earth college girl who is trying to make her awkward way through the world.

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