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July 8, 2007

You know, I've had some bumbles too

Wink's latest post, a hilarious account of an embarrassing introduction to her new city, made me think you'd want to hear about all my faux pas upon moving to a new port of call of my very own.

They include:
  • Boarding the wrong train on my first day of work
  • Dumbly pushing at said train's doors, wondering why they wouldn't open, until a kindly nun informed me as to the whereabouts of the door-opening buttons
  • Tripping up the hill on the way to work. Regularly.
  • Listening to a CD made by a friend that includes a certain smash hit by the group Rockapella, smiling in delight and thus garnering the attention of a nearby transient, who decided I was flirting with him. Don't worry, I shook him off after three blocks.
  • Doing everything the hard way, i.e. suffering extreme bouts of nausea while scrolling through roll after roll of microfilm before realizing I could use a computer to obtain much more successful results in a sixth of the time. But hey, if I didn't have to go through both morning and evening editions of the local paper for the entire month of November, 1991 I would have never learned about the reaction to Magic Johnson's disclosure he had AIDS.
  • Spelling my editor's name wrong in not one but two memos. So much for proving my dogged zeal for accuracy.
  • Deciding it would be good exercise to walk three miles to and from a grocery store to fulfill my constant cravings for Caprese salads... and break in my new sandals while I was at it. My feet started bleeding from the blisters before I even got there.
  • Repeatedly making myself huge batches of meals on Sunday nights, planning to eat the leftovers throughout the week and getting sick of it by Tuesday's dinner. I just won't learn.
Moving someplace completely new, especially when your roommate is so hostile to you for an unknown reason she won't even talk to you (see previous post) is akin to regenerating a limb. It hurts. You have to relearn things you thought you knew how to do, making you feel like quite the infant. But eventually you get stronger and, one day, you can clap (if the regenerated limb is an arm with the hand at the end of it, that is).

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